To Live
by TheBeastThatLostItsPlaceToGo
Summary: A Special Forces operator comes home from deployment to find his hometown ravaged by an outbreak. As he stumbles across survivors, he is left to find out if he has what it takes to live...
1. Every Day is Exactly the Same

For disclaimer, see profile.

**Prologue**

Two MH-60 Black Hawks flew through the air. The blistering heat was causing the men inside to sweat profusely. The sun was up high, but none of that mattered anymore. For the men of ODA 341, their battle was done. After 26 months of the same shit, different day, they were finally being pulled out. They were going home.

"Bagram, Kiowa 2-5. ETA 3 mikes, over."

"Kiowa 2-5, Bagram. Roger 3 mikes. Tell 341 we have a ride waiting for them, over."

The two helicopters finally landed on a busy airstrip and slowly powered down. The doors slid open and six men jumped out of each. This would be the last time the twelve men of ODA 341 would be in Bagram. At least, until they got new orders. The twelve operators walked into a hanger where Air Force personnel had their duffel bags ready. They turned in the leftover ammunition and started heading for a C-130 that would take them back stateside.

One of the operators, a Sergeant First Class by the name of Voodoo, looked back at the Afghan landscape in the distance. He smirked and got on the plane. Thirty minutes later the operators were in the sky.

Hours later, they landed on a remote airstrip near Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The operators were greeted by several officers and continued with their debriefing.

After what felt like an eternity, Voodoo got changed and got in a taxi. He drove to Fayetteville Airport and got on another plane. He flew to Charlotte, NC where he waited two hours to get on a plane to San Antonio, Texas. He was coming home.

Far away from the homecoming operator, in his hometown of San Antonio, there were people conducting some illegal activity. Underneath the headquarters of Carecorp Pharmaceutical Company, so-called experts were working on what they called the answer to skin cancer. But when the accident happened, there was little they could do. As they felt their bodies absorb the liquid medicine directly into their bodies, they realized one little thing. This "cure" was something more than medicine. It acted like a virus in their veins. And as they felt their brain shutting off, the last thing on their mind was definitely not the incoming American Airline flight 236 from Charlotte, NC.

Yeah, Voodoo was coming home…

Author's Note: So here you have it, my latest project. A little short, I know but it's just the prologue. So, just a little idea I've had in my mind for a while now and I've been picturing it as a show on HBO or Showtime, so here's a list of songs that I've been picturing that go with this chapter/prologue/pilot episode.

Ride to Bagram: "Every Day Is Exactly The Same" Nine Inch Nails

Coming home: "Going Inside" John Frusciante


	2. Where Do We Go From Here?

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter I**

If there was anything Julia Bennett loved more than anything, it was not being in school. Summer break just couldn't come soon enough. So when the alarm clock went off at 7:45 am, it was only appropriate to throw it against the wall as a response. Julia sat up and scratched her head.

_Just 2 more weeks and it was GRADUATION TIME! SENIORS 2011, _she thought, _but until then, I have to sit through that boring bullshit._

She got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. She yawned as she relieved herself and after she flushed the toilet, she looked in the mirror.

_It's getting time for another haircut. _Julia ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair and smirked at herself in the mirror. She snuck another glance at herself as she began to undress. There was a knock on the door.

"Julia? Are you in there?"

"Yeah Diane, I'm in here!" Julia shouted back at her stepmother.

"Just making sure you're up. Don't want to be late for school."

Julia turned on the shower and hopped in. she began to wash her body and felt the warm water hit her body. Just another day in her usual, boring life.

She turned off the water and walked out of the bathroom clad in a towel. She felt the cool marble floor hit her feet and she hopped around the cold floor. Once she made it into her room, she opened a drawer and fished out some panties. Nothing fancy, just some regular cotton panties. She smirked at her reflection in the mirror hanging from her bedroom door. Julia started to dress herself in a simple outfit she randomly put together. A nice navy blue t-shirt and a khaki skirt.

_I look good, don't I?_ Julia thought to herself. She skipped the socks and put her feet into some matching black pumps. With a self-motivating smile, she grabbed her backpack and moved downstairs. There was something wrong though. The TV her stepmother Diane would always watch was off. She didn't smell any breakfast, in fact, she didn't even hear the oil cooking in the pan.

Julia set her backpack down in a chair and peeked into the kitchen. Diane wasn't even in there! Something was definitely off. Julia walked through the kitchen and into the living room. She could her father's car still in the driveway. He was usually gone by the time she woke up. She turned around and noticed the front door was slightly ajar and someone got mud on the carpet.

_But since when is mud red? Blood red?_ Julia thought to herself. She stepped closer to the stained carpet and noticed that there was just a little bit of mud. No, there was quite a large stain and there was also a trail that led to the stairs. Julia knelt down and stared at the stain. She had seen the actors in CSI do this a million times, and in fact, Julia wanted to be a real CSI. As she stared at the stain, she could smell a faint coppery smell to the liquid. It was definitely blood. She looked up and followed the trail of blood up the stairs.

"Hello? Diane? Dad?" Julia called out. She climbed the stairs and saw that the blood went into the master bedroom. Julia peeked inside, careful not to get caught. _Maybe dad cut himself on the way out to work and Diane's not making breakfast because she needs to fix his wound._

When Julia finally saw the other occupants in the room, she got so scared, she forgot to scream. She ran out of the room and into her father's office and reach for the top drawer of his filing cabinet. Her hands rifled around inside until she felt the heavy weight of her objective. Julia's fingers wrapped around the grip as she took aim at the door that was before her. She heard shuffling right outside the door. The figure moved into the study room and focused on Julia.

"Dad? Daddy, is that you? Daddy? Why aren't you answering?" Julia pleaded. Her hands began to tremble as her grip on the handgun weakened and began to falter a little. As the figure that was once her shuffled into the light, Julia could really see what her father looked like now. He was covered in blood and his Joseph Banks suit was now ripped in some places, stained with blood and gore. The worst part was his eyes. He had black orbs where his eyes used to be. Black, soulless orbs now filled his sockets. And the look on his face only said one thing. Food.

When her father was still a police officer, Julia used to go to range from time to time and shoot with her father. Now that she was in a situation where she needed to use those hard-earned skills, she couldn't pull through. The shadow of who was once her father charged at her, arms stretched out and a gasping scream coming out of his mouth. Julia closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

When she finally mustered the courage the open her eyes, Julia took in the carnage before her. She leaned to the side and threw up right there. As she felt her bodily fluids leaving her body, Julia noticed tears running down her face. She turned back to her father. What had he become? What was he? There was a moan in the distance and Julia got to her feet. She moved to the doorway and noticed the ghoul that she completely forgot about. Diane stood before her, also drenched in blood and gore. But she looked worse than dad. For one, her right arm was missing, severed at the elbow. _No,_ Julia thought, _not severed. Ripped off, or more like bitten off. _She looked back at her father and noticed the bloodstains around his mouth. _Just like the movies. They're zombies. _Julia thought as she took a deep breath and pulled the trigger again…

"Now arriving, American Airline flight 236 from Charlotte, North Carolina at gate 4. Again, that is American Airline flight 236 from Charlotte, North Carolina at gate 4. Thank you."

David Bealls stood by the luggage carousel. Women were eyeing him and children stared at the man in uniform like he was out of this world. Bealls was a twenty-seven year old Staff Sergeant in the US Army and he was dressed in his ACUs, coming straight from the office to the airport. Staff Sergeant Bealls stood proud, bearing the tabs of Airborne, Ranger and Special Forces on his left sleeve. Hiding behind his Oakley Half-Jackets, he glanced around. _Maybe I should've gone home first and changed before coming here. People are staring, _Bealls thought to himself while feeling out of place. Even though he was proud to be one of the best his country's army had to provide, standing in a crowded airport wasn't exactly his idea of fun. Just as Bealls was getting impatient, his target had arrived. He smiled and waved the passenger over to him.

"Welcome home douchebag. 11:30 my ass! Do you know how long I've been waiting for your ass?" He started.

"Oh shut up, you're just pissed that you couldn't come along for the trip." Came the reply. "It's just you? You didn't bring the family?"

"Nope, it's just me. God, it's good to see you James." And with that Staff Sergeant Bealls made his friend drop his two bags and enveloped him in a massive bear hug. "Two years was way too long!"

Bealls glanced down at the newly arrived man's chest, and his jaw dropped. "You made E-7?"

"Yeah, last May, right before my birthday. Baron and Killshot wanted a new Operations Sergeant, so they promoted me." The newly promoted Sergeant First Class James Anderson replied, referencing to his unit's commanding officer and second in command. "How do you feel now, knowing that if you went with us, it could've been you?"

"Shut up man, it doesn't matter. I'm proud of you, congratulations!" Bealls said as he smirked. He picked up the two bags Anderson had dropped and started towards the parking garage as Anderson followed. He thought back to the day he found out he wasn't deploying with the rest of his unit.

"_But sir, it's just a little fracture. If I wrap it up, you won't even know there was something wrong with me. There isn't anything wrong, the doctors are just overreacting. Besides, you need all of us over there, that includes me." Staff Sergeant Bealls protested two years earlier. The captain he was talking to just shrugged his shoulders. He put a fatherly hand on Bealls' shoulder._

"_Sandman," he said referring to Bealls' call sign within the unit. "I'm sorry, but the doctors put you on profile. No deployment for you. I know you want to go, but it's going to be another wild goose chase. We'll be home in a month or two and you won't even notice we're gone."_

_A month or two, _Bealls thought. _Baron sure was optimistic about this operation and two years later, now that everyone's back home, I can't even yell at the guy._

As Staff Sergeant David "Sandman" Bealls and Sergeant First Class James "Voodoo" Anderson got into Bealls' compact coupe, both men were thinking about the absent commanding officer. Captain Victor La Bonaire or "Baron," the commanding officer of ODA 341 was unfortunately killed in action three months before the unit was told to come home. Bealls was told of the incident while he was working a desk job back at the unit's headquarters, but listened to Anderson's firsthand account of the unfortunate death while driving back to his house.

"You sure your wife doesn't mind me staying the night today?" Anderson asked a few minutes after he finished his story. "I mean, I know I live across town, but I can give you some gas money and you can drop me off at home."

"Nonsense!" Bealls interrupted. "Besides, Claudia already got a pillow and a blanket for you. She made the couch extra comfy for ya!" Anderson just shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

The two men drove on, talking about everything they could think of. They had known each other since the Special Forces Selection Course at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. They were assigned to the same unit and spent several years forming a great friendship. The two operators were only a year apart in age, and even though Bealls had gotten married and had a child, the two were inseparable. When ODA 341 found out that their weapons sergeant wasn't coming along for this deployment due to a fracture in his foot, Anderson was disappointed the most.

"That's weird." Bealls commented. "The traffic's usually not this bad." The operator known as Sandman pointed off in the distance where a traffic jam was starting to form. Anderson squinted his eyes to try and focus on the traffic ahead. It looked as if the occupants had gotten sick of sitting in their cars and left their vehicles. He could see people walking in between the cars.

"Forget this." Bealls said as he drove the little compact off the ramp and on to a side street. He had the radio off and thought about turning it on to check the traffic reports, but decided against it. He drove through some side streets and found himself getting closer to his neighborhood. Anderson found himself staring out the window, admiring the houses on the side. He thought of his humble apartment and chuckled to himself. He turned to face forward just in time to see the girl covered in blood crossing the street. Bealls cursed as he slammed on the brake. He reacted so fast, Anderson noticed that Bealls managed to pull the emergency brake as well.

The car skidded to a halt inches away from the girl who stood in the middle of the street with eyes as big as saucers. Anderson and Bealls sat in silence as they studied the girl in front of them. She was wearing a navy blue t-shirt and a khaki skirt. Her bare knees were covered in dried blood and she had some blood on her chest as well. Her dirty blonde hair was a mess and she had make-up streaks running down her face while tears poured down. Bealls' eye twitched as Anderson hesitantly got out of the car. David "Sandman" Bealls quickly checked his concealed sidearm, a Browning Hi-Powered .45 caliber handgun before exiting the car as well. The girl looked at the two operators and raised her arm. The men known as Voodoo and Sandman were caught in a moment of shock as they this blood covered teenager holding a .45 caliber handgun and aiming it right at them. Sandman reached for his sidearm, but checked his motion as he noticed Voodoo slowly walking towards the girl. She looked at the younger of the two with tears in her eyes.

"Are you alright? Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm Sergeant Anderson, and this is Sergeant Bealls. We're in the Army. We're not gonna hurt you." Voodoo spoke slowly and clearly. He inched closer, hands outstretched. "Why don't you drop the weapon and tell me what's going on? Why do you even have that? Why are you covered in blood?"

The girl looked at Voodoo, then to Sandman. She sniffled twice and dropped the handgun. She took one step forward and fell into Voodoo's arms, crying her heart out. In between cries, Bealls could hear her say something along the lines "I killed my dad" but he wasn't too sure. Anderson broke the embrace he was in and looked her right in the eyes. He gave her a sad smile and wiped some tears away.

"Why don't we take a deep breath and start all over?" Anderson suggested. The girl did just that. She took a deep breath and wiped more tears. "What's your name?" He asked.

"Julia… Julia Bennett." Came the reply.

"Ok, Julia. What happened?"

"I don't know. I woke up this morning and I was getting ready for school. And then I was attacked by my dad. But he wasn't my dad anymore. He was like a zombie or some kind of freak. He already attacked my stepmom and he bit her arm off. He used to be a cop and I know where he kept his gun, so I ran to get it, but he followed me. He tried to bite me so I shot him in the face."

While listening to the scared girl's story, David Bealls had walked over to where she dropped the handgun. He picked it up and walked over to where Anderson was sitting with Julia.

"And then, when I tried to run away, I was attacked by my stepmom, Diane. So I shot her too. Then I ran out of the house. But everywhere I looked, neighbors were attacking each other. I hid in the bushes while I waited for someone to get me out of here."

Anderson turned to Bealls and saw his friend's face had turned white. _This is where he lives. Claudia! And little Lily!_ And just as if they were thinking the same thing, Bealls ran off to the east. Anderson stood up and called after him, but he was already gone, handgun in hand. Anderson grabbed Julia's hand and walked back to the car. He reached for one of his bags in the backseat and pulled out a M4A1 with a M203 grenade launcher attached to it. He dug around in another bag and fished out a magazine with thirty rounds of 5.56 millimeter diameter. He loaded the magazine and shouldered the weapon. He reached down and picked up the discarded .45 caliber handgun and gave it to Julia.

The Special Forces operator and the high school student carefully walked down the street, with Anderson sweeping his weapon across the width of the street. They arrived at an intersection and some movement caught their eye. Anderson was in full soldier mode and wore a mask of ruthlessness as he aimed through his ACOG sight that was mounted on top of his weapon. Julia raised her handgun as well but she was stopped by the soldier. The person they were aiming at was none other than Staff Sergeant Bealls. The look on his face made Anderson want to die. The operator known as Sandman had tears running down his face as he shook his head. He was walking out of an empty house, his wife and daughter nowhere to be found. The front door was kicked open, but there were blood streaks on the side of the doorpost. Bealls silently walked past the two, back to his car. Anderson and Julia quickly followed.

Sandman opened the trunk to his car and pulled out a M249 SAW, or Squad Automatic Weapon, a light machine gun that also fired 5.56 millimeter rounds. He loaded an ammo drum with 150 rounds in it. He then set the weapon on the top of the car while he reached down again and slipped on some body armor. Just in case of an emergency, all operators were required to carry their gear in their cars. Sandman put on his MOLLE vest and the rest of his equipment. The finishing touch was a MICH 2000 FAST helmet with the name SANDMAN written on the side with a Sharpie.

As Sandman was rolling up his sleeves, Anderson smirked. Army regulations said that no soldier was allowed to roll up their sleeves in ACUs, an issue that a lot of operators hated. Most of them preferred the older desert camouflage BDUs from the 1990's and early 2000. He reached in the car and ripped his bag out of the vehicle. He dumped everything out of his duffel and found his gear. Sandman grabbed his SAW stood in front of Anderson and the girl, his eyes looking for any kind of threat. Anderson finished putting his gear on and looked at the helmet in his hands. He threw it on the ground and picked up a different helmet sitting with the rest of his stuff. While Sandman preferred the solid, Kevlar MICH helmet, Anderson chose the plastic Pro-tec helmet. Basically a tan skateboard helmet, the Pro-tec was a common choice amongst Special Forces operators, especially since you could attach night vision goggles to them and glue a flashlight to the side of it. It may not be bulletproof like the Kevlar helmet Sandman was wearing, but it was lightweight and compact. Just like Sandman, Anderson's helmet also had Sharpie writing on it. The capital letters spelling out VOODOO were written across the left side, where Anderson had a SureFire tactical flashlight attached to his helmet.

Julia stood in awe as she watched the two operators take off their patches, name, rank, everything and attach a Velcro patch of a wolf's head, the symbol for 5th Special Forces Group ODA 341, the Wolfpack… The two nodded at each other and Sandman took point, trying to find some kind of trail left by his missing wife and child. Voodoo looked at the young Julia Bennett and gave her a sad smile, as if telling her that they were going to look for the Bealls family. Julia nodded and checked the ammo in her handgun.

The threesome had been walking in the neighborhood for about five minutes before they stumbled across a group of people hunkered over a wounded person. At first glance it seemed that the crowd was trying to give medical attention to the wounded victim, but after careful studying, it became apparent that the crowd was actually causing the wounds. They were feasting on a helpless woman, like mindless cannibals. Like zombies.

Sandman felt as if a knife was shoved into his heart. The helpless woman, the cannibal victim, the woman bleeding all over the pavement was his wife, his Claudia. He opened fire with the SAW, catching each one of the six ghouls in the head with a short controlled burst. Voodoo used the covering fire to run over Claudia Bealls but couldn't do anything for her, she was already lost.

The look on his comrade's face said enough. Sandman knew he had lost his wife. He walked over to her body and dropped to his knees. He hugged her and began to sob. Voodoo could feel his friend's pain as he loaded a 40 millimeter grenade round into his M203 grenade launcher attached to his weapon. His sleeve was being pulled on and he looked to his side. Julia was standing there with a bundle in her arms. She had wrapped her cargo in a blanket she found but the blanket was already soaked with blood. Voodoo didn't want to accept the truth but he knew deep down inside that Julia was carrying the deceased daughter of his friend. Voodoo nodded and Julia walked to Sandman. She gently set the child down with full respect and backed away to let the operator grieve.

Voodoo looked at the proud man he knew called his best friend. The man who had just lost his wife and daughter. He still didn't want to accept the truth, but this was it. This was reality. It was if he was part of a twisted videogame or movie. But he wasn't. This was real. The truth hurt, but this was it. Voodoo was home…

**Author's Note:** Just another chapter, this officially starts To Live… I hope you liked it. I certainly do enjoy writing these characters. I have about 3 pages worth of characterization for these people. Well, I hope you guys liked it too! Please review!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

Julia's introduction: "On Directing" Tegan and Sara

Julia's discovery: "Zombie" The Trucks

Father's attack on Julia: "Judith" A Perfect Circle.

The airport: "Spritz! Spritz!" Minus the Bear

The ride home: "The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie" Red Hot Chili Peppers

Sandman's home: "Where Do We Go From Here" Filter

The truth hurts: "Hurt" Johnny Cash


	3. This Is My Dream

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter II**

"Keep firing! Stay in your sectors of fire!"

Second Lieutenant William Hicks was shouting orders to his Marines. He was in charge of 2nd platoon, 1st Marine Division, part of a United States Marine Corps effort to evacuate the citizens of San Antonio who had suffered some sort of biological terrorist attack. Once exposed to this biological agent, the victims would become enraged and charge at any innocent bystander. The Marines were ordered to escort the citizens to safety but ten minutes later found themselves in a bloody fight against the ghouls.

Lieutenant Hicks' platoon, 2nd platoon, was tasked with providing security on the north side of town. There was an evacuation site where Marine, Air Force and Red Cross helicopters were landing and taking people to safety. Everything was going smooth until the checkpoint was overrun. Out of the entire platoon, only a few remained. There were several civilians present as well; waiting for the next helicopter that just didn't seem to come. The Marines were shooting infected targets left and right. The ground was becoming littered with bodies. They learned only on, that the only way to kill one was aim for the head. Just like the movies. But these cannibals were just closing too fast and the Marines didn't have the time to find breath control and squeeze that trigger. It quickly turned into a spray and pray fest!

Alongside the Marines were some Air Force Pararescuemen. A team of eight had tagged along as medical aid providers. The Pararescuemen, or PJ's as they were called, were scattered amongst the Marines. PJ's were the Air Force's contribution to the US Special Operations Forces. They were elite combat medics, often jumping behind enemy lines to save a shot down pilot and provide medical attention. Pararescuemen were all men, but in an experiment, five women were selected to try the rigorous training. Only one of the five passed, Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell.

Technical Sergeant Mitchell was crouched behind an abandoned car reloading her M4 carbine while two Marines covered her. She and another PJ were assigned to Hicks' platoon as medics. As she rose above the hood of the car, she noticed several "deadheads" as they were being called closing in on her buddy Parker's position across the street. Tech Sergeant Parker and the Marine next to him were firing everything they had until the Marine fell victim to the infected. Sergeant Parker pulled out his sidearm and fired at the zombies at close range but he too became a casualty. Mitchell cursed as she set her red dot sights on the infected and shot them.

The order came from Second Lieutenant Hicks to fall back behind the sandbag bunker they had constructed. Sergeant Mitchell and the two Marines with her provided covering fire for each other as they retreated in a leapfrog pattern. And while Mitchell was running, she heard a cry for help. She turned around and saw one of her Marine comrades had fallen down. He was being swarmed by the infected and soon the gnawing sounds were beginning to torment Alexa Mitchell's ears.

The second Marine smiled sadly. "Tech Sergeant? You need to keep moving to the safe zone by the bunker. I'll stay behind to cover you."

Mitchell shook her head. "That's a negative Private; we're both getting out of here."

The Marine gave her shoulder a slight shove. "Sorry Sarge, can't be that way. You need to go." And with that, the Marine began to inch closer to the infected, which had already turned his buddy in to a buffet table. Mitchell tried to stop him but it was already too late. The Marine was in the process of reloading when he got overwhelmed. Just like that, Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell was alone, 50 feet away from the safety of the bunker.

Mitchell closed her eyes for a second and said a quick prayer for the Marines who had just given their lives for her. She jumped a foot in the air when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see her assailant and found herself staring into the eyes of Hicks' platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson.

"Ya can't do anythin' for them boys anymore, little sergeant." The Staff Sergeant began. He drew his M16A2 assault rifle and began shooting past her. Lieutenant Hicks and another Marine also provided cover fire as Mitchell found herself running to the bunker. The service members all crouched behind the bunkers and did nothing as they listened to the infected feast on the fallen Marines they were forced to leave behind.

Mitchell looked at the three Marines that remained with her. Second Lieutenant Hicks was discussing evacuation matters with Staff Sergeant Jackson. The third Marine, a Private by the name of Martinez, was posted as a guard with a M249 light machine gun. She turned to the right and looked at the three civilians that were hiding with them. A lawyer had come running up to the checkpoint, screaming that she wasn't infected. She was wearing a business suit and was armed with a handgun she took from a dead cop. Also with her were a father/daughter duo, the dad, a veterinarian, and the daughter, a high school student. They were armed with a single baseball bat. Together, the seven of them were not going to last long…

Fifteen minutes had past and Second Lieutenant William Hicks was told by the higher ups that extraction would not be coming for them. They had to round up all survivors and meet at the main Command Point. That meant running 4 miles while protecting civilians and shooting the "deadheads" that were after them. His platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Jackson, had vehemently advised the Lieutenant to follow those orders. After all, that was the only to get out of the god-forsaken city. Hicks looked at his senior sergeant. Jackson's face was covered in dirt and sweat. He looked at the last Marine he had left. Private First Class Martinez, who packed a light machine gun. It was not going to be easy running with that weapon and Martinez was already starting to feel the effects of the fatigue. Hicks looked at his Air Force medic. The female looked scared but determined. Then there were the civilians. While the lawyer looked like she could take care of herself, the father and daughter looked like they would need covering. Of all the times to experience his first hand at leading a platoon…

Second Lieutenant William Hicks graduated high school and went through OCS and graduated third in his class. He received commission as a 2nd Lieutenant and joined the Marine Corps. This was his first time in combat. He had never been overseas, hell; he had never fired a weapon other than on the range! And now here he was, under pressure with almost all of his Marines dead, or undead. He couldn't forget the first time he saw one of his men get right back up. Get up right after he was taken down by three infected cannibals. They ripped his skin open and shredded his flesh, but two minutes after they ravaged his body, he got right back up. Only this time, he was one of them. Hicks shuddered at the thought.

Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell could see the horror in Hicks' eyes. She knew that he was feeling upset about the loss of his men. But now was not the time. He was the one in charge. They couldn't afford to have him break down like this. Especially in front of the same people they were supposed to save!

Suddenly there were gunshots. The seven survivors peeked over the edge of their bunker and saw two figures moving about the dead cannibals. Out of habit, Mitchell had her weapon resting on the sandbags and she was looking down her red dot sights. The figures stopped and one of them inspected the dead Marines while the other gestured in the distance, where another, smaller figure was hiding. The two larger people waited for the smaller frame to catch up and the three proceeded down the street, right towards Mitchell. She looked to her side where the Marines were watching everything. Staff Sergeant Jackson stood up with his hands raised.

"US MARINES! Don't shoot!" He shouted.

"US Army, coming through!" Came the reply.

Mitchell and the Marines gathered the three survivors and moved towards the approaching soldiers. What she saw wasn't exactly what she was expecting. The smallest of the three turned out to be a young girl, a high school senior maybe. The other two, the Army guys, however...

Second Lieutenant Hicks sized up the two soldiers in front of him. The third person was a young girl, armed with a handgun but not very important. The two Army men though, they were not exactly regulation issue soldiers. The larger of the two had slight stubble on his chin, his eyes covered by Oakley Half-Jackets. Where Army personnel usually had their unit patches, this guy had a wolf's head on his sleeve. He was carrying a customized M249 SAW light machine gun, just like Martinez and had the name SANDMAN written on his helmet. The other soldier standing before him had a mild tan and a full grown beard, his eyes also covered by Oakley sunglasses, albeit a different model, the Juliets. He, too, wore the wolf's head as a unit patch and Hicks noticed that this guy wasn't wearing a standard issue helmet. Instead he chose a tan skateboard helmet he had seen worn by Army Special Forces and Navy SEALs complete with his name VOODOO written on it. Since these guys already identified themselves as Army, Hicks concluded that these guys were operators within the Army Special Operations community. Special Forces Green Berets? Or Delta Force even?

Hicks decided to pull rank and stepped forward. "Second Lieutenant Hicks, 2nd platoon, 1st Marines. We're here to evacuate the civilians. What is your unit and operation?" Hicks said with the emphasis on his rank, knowing that most Special Forces were not officers. The one with SANDMAN on his helmet just scoffed and looked away. The one known as VOODOO glared at Hicks through his shades. He started to take his Arabian shemagh off his neck and walked towards Technical Sergeant Mitchell. He used it as a bandage and wrapped it around her arm.

When the infected first approached, one of the Marines was about to throw a grenade but he was overwhelmed and he dropped it. When it exploded, Mitchell was hit by the shrapnel. She completely forgot about the wound until this man bandaged it up. He smirked, somewhat satisfied with his work and moved on. He turned back to the Lieutenant and took a deep breath. Hicks, meanwhile, was getting impatient.

"I asked you a question soldier. Don't make me order an answer out of you." Hicks was trying to sound intimidating, hiding behind his rank.

The operator with the light machine gun chuckled and answered instead. "Well, _sir. _He just got back from the sandbox yesterday, _sir." _He pointed to the other operator. "I picked him up at the airport, _sir, _and we drove right into a surrealistic nightmare, _sir._ We watched my wife and daughter die at the hands of those things, _sir, _and we picked up this young girl, _sir._ Now we're just trying to get the fuck out of the city, _sir. _That's our operation, _sir. _As for our unit… that doesn't matter, _sir._" The operator finished, making sure the Lieutenant felt his distaste with every mention of the word 'sir' that came out of his mouth.

The operator who tied the bandage spoke up. "What Sandman means to say is why are you treating this as a military operation? These "deadheads" aren't you're typical enemy. So don't treat this as your typical combat situation." He stroked his dark beard. "If anything, we need to do our job, protect these civilians and get the hell out of the city. We need to work together if we want to survive, sir."

Mitchell stood in awe as she watched these two Army Special Forces operators blow off the Lieutenant. The wind blew through the crowd as the Lieutenant found himself in a verbal Mexican standoff with the two operators. The tension was thick in the air. Mitchell didn't want to be a part of this argument, this was more like a pissing contest between officers and Special Forces if anything, but she felt like something had to be done. She took a deep breath as if she were psyching herself up and the best thing she could come up with was a simple clearing of the throat. The passive man known as Voodoo turned to her while the Lieutenant and the massively built Sandman simply stopped glaring at each other.

The platoon sergeant of 2nd platoon, 1st Marines, Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson, watched the whole scene die down. He waited for Lieutenant Hicks to step away from the Army guys, and then approached the calmer of the operators.

"Uhhh, Voodoo is it? I'm Staff Sar'gent Jackson, platoon sar'gent of 2nd platoon." He stuck his hand out and surprisingly enough, the operator took it and gave him a firm handshake. "I jus' wanna say thank ya for comin' when ya did. That was some fancy shootin' ya'll did." His southern accent lingering in the air.

"It was nothing, we heard the gunfire and we moved this way. We're just lucky to have met you, more guns means more chances of making it out alive. We need to consolidate our ammunition, share what we have." Voodoo looked at Private Martinez. "Private, from now on it is your job to protect these civilians, no matter the cost."

Hicks stood up from where he had taking a seat and opened his mouth. How dare this operator take charge of his Marines like that? His platoon sergeant just looked at the operator and nodded his head.

"Sergeant Jackson, I need you and your lieutenant to cover the sides so that the civilians are covered on all sides. Sandman and I will take point and lead us out of here. Do you have an extraction point?" Voodoo asked.

"The only one left is at the CP (Command Post), 4 miles down the street." Staff Sergeant Jackson said as he and Voodoo both looked at the intersection of Huebner and Fredericksburg Road.

"Then that's where we'll go. Let's go, I don't know about you, but I don't have time to play with myself."

And with that, the group of survivors moved out. The four citizens grouped together, surrounded by the three Marines, while Voodoo and Sandman led them to what would hopefully be freedom from this nightmare. As they were walking past the dead infected and Marines, Voodoo couldn't help but shake his head. So much for coming home…

**Author's Note:** Chapter two is done, off to number three… Also shout-out to my first reviewer of this story, The Road Warrior! I hope you caught the quote I threw in there for you! Now, I know this one was a little shorter, like 1000 words shorter, sorry! I just wanted to use this one to introduce more characters, including one of my personal favorites, Sergeant Mitchell. Inspiration for Air Force Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell was actually from one of my female Army buddies, who is so laid back yet so gung ho. Shout out to my girl, PFC Anderson, aka "GRRRR." I didn't mention this in the other chapter though, but Sandman and Voodoo are actually based on two guys who are in my unit, but also have been the greatest friends I could ever ask for. Known them for yeeeeaaaarrs. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! Please review!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

Semper Fi: "The Outsider" A Perfect Circle

Mitchell, Alexa Mitchell: "This Is My Dream" Lacuna Coil

Praying for the lost: "I'm Your Puppet" Gregory and the Hawk

The Operators…: "Knights" Minus the Bear

Off into the distance…: "Leave Out All the Rest" Linkin Park


	4. Clair de Lune

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter III**

The sun was setting as a nice cool breeze blew past the leaves in the trees. The sky was painted like a beautiful mural with crimson and cobalt. Other than the wind, there wasn't a single sound. Just the wind and the sounds of burning embers. Scattered across the field were burning wreckages of what used to be military vehicles.

Voodoo looked across the open field. There were bodies of Marines and civilians everywhere. The last safe place in the whole city had been overrun. Sandman approached his fellow operator and scoffed. Second Lieutenant Hicks dropped to his knees kept his head down. The two high school girls started crying. Was there really no way out now? Private First Class Martinez took his helmet off and turned to Voodoo.

"Now what sir? There are way too many of them!"

Voodoo turned to the young Marine, "Private, I am always outnumbered, but never outmanned. Just because there are more of them doesn't mean we are defeated."

The Marine took those words to heart and sat down. He pulled out his canteen and drank some water. Voodoo was approached by Sandman. "You really believe all that shit you just fed that kid?"

Voodoo chuckled. "Dude, I have no idea what the hell I just said. I don't even know what to do now. There's gotta be a way out of here."

"Maybe we should wait until tomorrow. The sun is setting and don't want to be caught on the street at night with those things out there."

Voodoo smirked. "You're right." He turned around to look at the other survivors. "We let them rest for five more minutes and then we move out." He motioned for Lieutenant Hicks and Staff Sergeant Jackson to come over. When the two came near, Sandman pointed off in the distance. Voodoo continued, "Alright, we're gonna hold up here for five more minutes and then we're going to that building right there." The Lieutenant and Sergeant followed to where Sandman was pointing to.

"It's a hotel." Sandman took over. "We'll hole up in there."

Sandman tapped Private Martinez and Technical Sergeant Mitchell on the shoulder and the three of them ran towards the building. Voodoo grabbed the tube from his Camelbak and took a sip.

The operator known as Sandman was an intimidating man. He clearly stood over six foot four and he had this way of glaring at you through his sunglasses. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and you could see muscles rippling. He made the M249 SAW light machine gun look like nothing more than a TV remote.

Private First Class Joe Martinez was a few steps behind Sergeant Mitchell and the scary operator. The three were approaching a crummy motel. From the outside it looked like a motel he would never stay at, but he could see why the operator chose this building. There was only one entrance and not that many windows. There was a staircase leading to the rooms on the outside, perfect vantage point. Martinez watched as the burly operator threw himself through the door, which came off the hinges. Private Martinez and the Air Force PJ crouched by the doorpost while Sandman reached over the counter and grabbed some room keys. The operator walked back to the door where he nodded to the other two and the three of them stood guard on the staircase.

The whole time Sandman, Tech Sergeant Mitchell and Private Martinez were gone, Voodoo watched the motel. When he saw his friend throw himself through the door, he gathered the rest of the survivors and they started moving towards the motel. The group assembled by the staircase and Sandman was holding some keys. Voodoo looked at the group.

"Alright, wait right here. Sandman and I are gonna clear the rooms first."

Lieutenant Hicks was looking at the two operators as they began to clear out the rooms. Clearly he had lost the battle of respect, but that didn't mean that the two soldiers could just blow him off. Although, the two men had saved his life and the lives of his two remaining soldiers. Plus, they have been keeping the four civilians safe. Hicks decided that having the two operators around wasn't necessarily a bad thing. However, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gunfire. Sandman had run into an infected and judging by the lack of gunfire that followed the first burst, he had hit his target.

Voodoo walked back to the crowd. "It's alright guys. All clear." The rest of the crowd walked up the stairs as Voodoo and Sandman carried out the body of the recently killed zombie. They threw it over the railing and looked at the others.

"Alright, there are two rooms, and they are connected. One for the guys and one for the girls." Voodoo explained. Lieutenant Hicks took a key and went into one of the rooms. His Marines followed in. One of the survivors, father to one of the girls followed in after telling his daughter to go inside her room. The female survivors followed Technical Sergeant Mitchell into the other room. One of the girls stayed behind.

"You're not coming?" Julia Bennett asked the two men who saved her life earlier.

The two soldiers looked at each other and Voodoo shook his head. "No, we're gonna stay out here and guard the motel. Make sure nothing attacks us tonight. We can't let any one of those bastards get to us."

"You're going to stand guard all night?"

Sandman chuckled. "Yep, we'll let the Marines get their beauty sleep so they and Miss Air Force can be fully alert tomorrow."

Julia frowned. "I want to be with you guys tonight."

"No," Sandman interrupted. "You get some rest. We'll be fine."

Julia stood there for a second, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was the woman who was with the Marines, the lawyer. She locked eyes with Sandman's Oakley glasses for a moment and then entered the room. The door closed, leaving Voodoo and Sandman alone with their thoughts.

Julia Bennett walked into the room. The girls were starting to relax a little. Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell had taken her helmet off, revealing a tightly held bun of blonde hair. Her M4A1 was leaning against the wall next to one of the two beds. She began to take off her MOLLE vest as fatigue finally caught up to her. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she rubbed her wounded arm gently. Alexa then took off her ASOLO boots and aired them out. The socks were next. Mitchell also began to unbutton her ABU shirt while the younger girls simply watched her. She turned to the two high school students and smiled sadly. The light in the bathroom turned off and the other adult walked in the room.

Seeing that the Air Force sergeant had taken one of the beds, Rachel Dempsey walked to the other bed. She set the handgun she took from a dead cop on the nightstand and took her business coat off. She got caught up in all this chaos while on her lunch break. _I wonder if the guys at work made it out of the city, _she wondered. Rachel took her shoes off as well and massaged her feet. _Good thing I didn't wear panty hose today. That would've been murder on the legs._

At the young age of 24, Rachel Dempsey was having the best time of her life. She graduated law school recently and just got a job at a major firm. _Yeah, and then this happens. I should've stayed in Seattle. _She glanced at the Air Force Sergeant and noticed that the girls were asking her questions about her job. _And of course I'm sharing a room with G.I. Jane over there. I can hold my own too! _Rachel untucked her shirt and put her shoes back on. Sergeant Mitchell looked up but Rachel shook her head. She opened the front door and stepped out.

Julia Bennett and fellow high school student Sandra Kowalski were asking so many questions about what it was like to shoot a weapon and kill the zombies. _It's as if they've never met a female service member._ Alexa thought to herself.

"Easy now girls, one at a time please!" Alexa argued.

The girl that was with the operators, Julia, looked at the discarded gear. "Is that stuff heavy?"

The sergeant chuckled and nodded. "Just the vest alone is over twenty pounds. That doesn't even include all the additional gear."

The younger girl, Sandra, looked at her with tear stained eyes. "Sergeant, are you gonna protect me and daddy?"

"Of course," Was the reply. "And you can call me Alexa." She added with a smile. The younger Kowalski surprised the Air Force medic and hugged her. Mitchell looked at the Bennett girl and smiled. Julia couldn't help herself as she found herself hugging the two others as well.

The sun was past the horizon when Rachel Dempsey walked out of the room. True to their word, the two operators were standing guard right outside the doors. They turned around and saw the lawyer standing before them. Sandman cleared his throat and moved down the hall a little, leaving Voodoo with the woman.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?"

Rachel smiled. "Ma'am?"

"I don't know your name yet."

Rachel couldn't figure out what it was about him, maybe it was the way he emphasized the word yet, but she was drawn to the bearded soldier. He had taken his helmet off and his non-regulation haircut was pressed to his head. His sunglasses were on his head and his chocolate eyes were burning into her. She turned to Sandman, "The girls wanted to thank you for saving them and they wanted to say goodnight."

The burly operator shrugged and went into the room, leaving Rachel with Voodoo.

"So, Voodoo? Did your parents hate you or so?" She asked, causing Voodoo to laugh.

He took his vest off and smiled. "It's James. James Anderson."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Rachel Dempsey." The two shook hands and shared an awkward but nice silence. Rachel leaned on the railing where Voodoo was and stared at the stars that were beginning to appear.

"So, you're a lawyer, is it?" Rachel nodded. "How's that treating you?"

Rachel smiled, "Just graduated law school. Finally got a job and this happens. So, you tell me soldier, how do you think it's treating me?" She asked teasingly. She glanced at the commando and sighed. Voodoo set his weapon down and took a sip of water from his Camelbak. Rachel finally gave in and leaned on his shoulder. Voodoo looked at the woman leaning on him and furrowed his eyebrows. Against his better judgment he wrapped his arm around the lawyer and for the first time in over two years he felt human. At that moment he was not Voodoo, he was Jimmy Anderson, a guy with a cute girl leaning against him.

Sandman walked in the room and saw the two girls hugging the Air Force chick. He cleared his throat and the sergeant smiled at him. Julia Bennett looked up from the embrace and ran towards him. She enveloped him in as big of a hug as she could manage with the big man. He could feel her shiver and realized she was crying. While still holding the crying girl, he set down his SAW and took his helmet off. The other girl and the Air Force sergeant were just watching it happen.

"You alright kiddo?" He gently asked, stroking her hair. He could feel her nod into his chest. Holding her made the gentle giant think of his late wife and daughter. He was reminded of the fact that he would never again hold his baby girl. And with that thought in mind, he gently stroked Julia's hair while he silently cried on the inside, his face a mask of stone.

Alexa and Sandra Kowalski watched the scary soldier hug the young teenager and the Air Force Pararescue(wo)man could tell there was something wrong with the man. His face was stoic, not a single expression, but the way he was comforting the girl, it was as if he was comforting his own daughter.

Holding the troubled teen while he could feel his heart break, made David Bealls an angry man. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare, turn this hellish game off. He wanted out. But most of all, he just wanted to see his wife and daughter. Sandman wanted to go home…

**Author's Note:** TWO CHAPTERS ON ONE DAY? NO WAI! I know, I was bored, so I added this chapter as well. Hopefully it'll make up for the fact that these two were shorter than the first one. Very sappy, I know and I apologize for that, but you also have to think that these are not only civilians, but young girls. And just because the guys are SF, doesn't mean they're not human. Just a little calmer chapter explaining more of the survivors, just so it's not always about Voodoo and Sandman. Next one should be the other room, gonna be little more in depth our last character, Jeff Kowalski and the Marines and then it's back to kicking ass and chewing bubblegum, and Sandman is all out of bubblegum. So be back for number 4! I hope you guys liked it! Please review or I will send Voodoo and Sandman after you!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

The Sunset From Hell: "Clair de Lune" Claude Debussy

The operators, a moment alone…: "Scratches" John Frusciante

Staying the night…: "Stay the Same" Days Away

Intimacy: "Pachuca Sunrise" Minus the Bear

Sandman and the girls: "Boats and Birds" Gregory and the Hawk


	5. Friend of the Night

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter IV**

The Marine lieutenant and sergeant were quietly talking amongst themselves. They had their helmets and gear off and the weapons were being cleaned. The AC was blowing cool air in the tiny room and the Marine private was sleeping in the chair by the door.

Jeff Kowalski was looking at the scene before him. The Marines were sitting away from him and given him the second bed to himself. He had taken his backpack off and glanced inside it. There were several medical supplies in there and the Marine sergeant had taken some shrapnel from an explosion that needed some attention. Jeff remembered how he and the Air Force girl had wrapped bandages around the Marine's arm.

The Kowalski patriarch smiled to himself. If only his parents could see him now. They always wanted him to be a doctor and they couldn't help but be a little disappointed when he revealed his dreams of become a veterinarian instead. He was always there though, whenever his father hurt himself in the shop or when his idiot younger brother hurt himself doing those tricks on his skateboard.

Jeff felt a little guilty. He was always there for his family, and yet he couldn't do anything for his wife Jill. Sure, he had beaten the two ghouls that attacked her with a baseball bat and memories of years of little league practices came flooding back to him as he let loose on that cannibal. But the damage was already done. He had run to the kitchen, where he grew several green and red medicinal herbs and made a paste that he applied to his wife's bite wound, but the bleeding wouldn't stop. As he replaced the blood-soaked bandages with fresh ones, he tried to make his wife smile.

"You know, with those two freaks on either side of you, you were kind of like a Jill sandwich…!"

His wife Jill smiled weakly as she moved her good hand to his face and caressed his cheek. Against his better judgment, he wrapped a tourniquet around her arm and packed as many medical supplies he could into a backpack. His daughter Sandra was crying throughout all of this, as she clamped on to the baseball bat.

The three Kowalskis checked to see if it was clear and surprisingly enough, there were none of those infected monsters out on the street. They left the house and started a slow jog down the road. There was groan and some shuffling, and the threesome turned to see a zombie approaching. Sandra held the bat ready. For a 14 year old, she was adamant about defending her family as she watched her target move closer. It was almost in striking distance when the family of three heard shouting.

"US Marines! Get down!"

The family dropped down as fast as they physically could and saw about ten Marines closing in on them. The one in the front stood beside them, took aim and opened fire. A short burst later, three bullets found their mark. The victim fell to the ground, dead, again.

_And now we're here_, Jeff thought sadly. _Those Marines didn't stand a chance. They thought they were ready, but they hadn't seen anything yet._

Jeff Kowalski stood up from where he was sitting and walked to the door that connected the two rooms. He hesitated for a second and knocked quietly. There was a pause and the door was opened by the Air Force medic. Her blonde hair was down and she was just wearing a tan t-shirt and her camouflaged pants. She looked puzzled for a second, and then stepped aside to reveal his daughter sleeping on one of the two beds. Jeff paused for a second, but Technical Sergeant Mitchell's brown eyes silently invited him in.

The father walked towards the bed and the sergeant walked back to her chair where she was conversing with the Special Forces operator Jeff didn't even notice was in the room. He was sitting in a chair at the opposite side of the room, right next to the second bed. While the operator was talking to Alexa Mitchell, Jeff could see that he was actually holding hands with the sleeping girl on the bed, Julia Bennett. Poor girl had lost both her parents and desperately clung to the Special Forces soldiers she met along the way. She and Sandra grew attached immediately and it brought a smile to Jeff's face, knowing that even now, Sandra wasn't alone.

He sat down on the bed, next to his daughter. He began to stroke her hair.

_I'm sorry I couldn't save your mother. Please don't hate me for it. _Jeff thought to himself, a single tear running down his face. He thought back to the dreaded moment.

_The Marines formed a circle around the three Kowalskis, while the leader and a girl in a different uniform approached them. _

_ "Second Lieutenant William Hicks, US Marine Corps. You alright guys?"_

_ Jeff looked at his wife, "No sir, it's my wife. She was attacked. I tried to stop the bleeding. But I could only do so much."_

_ The Lieutenant looked at the woman in pain then turned to the uniformed medic. "See what you can do."_

_ The medic nodded and knelt down. "Hello, I'm Air Force Tech Sergeant Mitchell. I'm trained in the medical field. Let's take a look at your arm, shall we?"_

_ She talked quietly and calmly to his wife, Jeff noticed, as if she were a kid who was hurt. The Lieutenant pulled Jeff aside while Sandra stayed by her mother._

_ "Sir, I'm gonna need you to stay calm. There's something you need to know. It's not exactly good news, but it's better to know this now then go through it later. We've noticed that whenever someone gets physical harmed by these things, they turn into them a few hours later."_

_ The Marine's words sounded empty and dull, as if he had already accepted the fact that he was going to hurt this family._

_ "What do you mean sir?" Jeff knew very well what the Marine was saying; he just couldn't believe it. He just didn't __**want**__ to believe it._

_ "I'm sure you know what I am referring to." The younger man explained. Jeff shook his head. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. He and Jill were supposed to have a happy life together and watch their daughter grow old._

_ "If you insist on killing my wife, you're just going to have to kill me as well Lieutenant."_

_ "Sir, I understand that it's not exactly…"_

_ "Do you? Do you understand? Are you married Lieutenant? Do you know what it's like to have to fight for your life to save your wife's?" The older man interrupted._

_ "No, sir." Came the bleak reply._

_ "Then don't tell me what it is that you understand." There was a pause. "Ten minutes. Give me ten minutes to explain everything to my wife and daughter. Then you can do whatever it is you want to do. On one condition."_

_ "What's that sir?"_

_ "I get to watch."_

_ "Sir, I don't think it would be wise to let you witness something like that."_

_ The hurt husband smiled sadly and turned away. "Doesn't matter, I'm going to be there. I want to be the last person there with my wife. And I want you to see how much it hurts. I want you to feel what I feel." And when Jeff Kowalski turned back to the Marine, there were tears running down his face._

_ Crying. There was so much crying. Air Force Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell had to hold the daughter back when it was time. The husband had explained everything to his wife and daughter, and immediately, the girl hugged her mother and refused to let go. Sergeant Mitchell was reassuring the girl everything was for the better, but she just stood there with a cold look on her face, clenching her baseball bat. In the end, she grabbed Mitchell's hand and walked away, hoping that if she walked away, she wouldn't have to see it happen._

_ The husband was worse. Even though, he wasn't crying as much as the daughter, you could see he was hurting inside. The couple stayed locked in a kiss for the longest time, and just like that, it was over. The Lieutenant, platoon sergeant and the husband took the wife around the corner of a gas station. While holding the daughter, Alexa ordered the Marines to set up a perimeter._

_ One gunshot._

_ That's all Alexa heard. That was all that was needed. When the weapon went off, Sergeant Mitchell could feel the girl jerk in her arms. The poor girl heard the death of her mother, a victim to those freaks._

_ The three men appeared from around the corner, the husband now in tears. Alexa looked at the daughter and let her go. Sandra ran towards her dad and the two hugged. The Lieutenant looked like he was going to get sick. The Air Force medic came to the conclusion that he was the one who pulled the trigger._

_ Unfortunately, the moment did not last. As soon as the group began to re-organize, a woman in a business suit came running from down the street, the direction the group was moving in. She paused for a second, then aimed a police issued Beretta M92 9mm handgun and shot a zombie in the head. She let a little scream out when the recoil hit her wrist and she began running again. She noticed the Marines and began screaming for help. Private Martinez took a few steps closer and dropped to one knee. He began to open fire with his SAW light machine gun until another private stopped him. The man winked and pulled a M67 fragmentation grenade from his pouch. Martinez stood up and guided the business woman over to him while the other private inched a little closer. As luck would have it, the pin was bent a little too far and the Marine spent a few extra seconds trying to pull that pin. When he finally succeeded, he looked up to check his target and saw that the cannibals had closed in on him. A group of five swarmed him and the man was overwhelmed. The grenade rolled to the ground and exploded._

_ Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell didn't feel a thing. Her adrenaline was pumping so hard that she didn't feel anything the grenade caused. The platoon sergeant was on the ground though, was he hit? As the assigned medic, Mitchell ran to the man and dragged him to cover. The damage wasn't too bad. He just caught some shrapnel in his arm. Sergeant Mitchell wrapped a bandage around the wound and brought her rifle back up. She didn't even realize that she was hit by shrapnel as well._

Looking at her arm, Alexa frowned. _But Voodoo saw it. And he helped me out._ She looked up at the hurt father and saw that he had fallen asleep next to his daughter. She turned to her right and saw that Sandman had fallen asleep in his chair, still holding the sleeping Julia Bennett's hand. Mitchell stood up from her chair and moved to the front door, which was slightly ajar. She peeked through the crack and saw the lawyer leaning on Voodoo's shoulder and he had his arm wrapped around her. It sounded like the two of them were whispering quietly, but the two were definitely getting a little comfy. He had taken his helmet and vest off and his rifle was by his discarded gear, but his left hand was on his sidearm, just in case.

_His sidearm is on the left side? He's left-handed, I didn't even notice that, _she thought. Not wanting to break the moment, Mitchell moved away from the door. She went to go sit down again when the lights turned off. _No, not just the lights. The AC is off too,_ Mitchell thought to herself. The door connecting the two rooms swung open and Lieutenant Hicks was standing in the doorway.

"What happened?"

"The lights went out, Sir. The AC is out too." The medic replied.

Voodoo and Rachel came into the room. "What's going on? The lights outside turned off." The operator said.

Rachel, being the voice of common sense, suggested, "Maybe the power's out?"

"Sandman, wake up!" Voodoo whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping girls. The smaller operator shook the burly man's leg. The man opened his eyes immediately and had his sidearm drawn. He sighed when he noticed it was his friend waking him.

Voodoo looked at Sandman and the platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Jackson. "I want the two of you standing guard outside. LT, you and Martinez keep the civilians safe. Doc, you're with me."

Technical Sergeant Mitchell nodded as she threw her socks and boots on. She didn't even bother lacing them up, she just went straight for her vest. She skipped putting her shirt on and slipped the vest over her t-shirt. She grabbed her weapon in one hand and her helmet in the other.

By the time Voodoo and Sergeant Mitchell went down the stairs, Sandman and Staff Sergeant Jackson were already outside with their weapons up and ready. The commotion had woken the male Kowalski up and he and Rachel were watching the girls while the Lieutenant and Private Martinez stood in the middle of the room.

Mitchell cursed to herself. She couldn't see more than 30 feet in this pitch black night. She could barely make out the movement in front of her. Voodoo on the other hand was moving as if it were broad daylight. The operator, much like her, was not wearing his over-shirt. Instead, he slipped his vest over his t-shirt and his helmet was missing as well.

_At least his boots are tied, _the woman thought while she regretted hastily putting on her boots as they flapped around. The two had worked their way into the building's first floor and were currently looking for a door to the office. Voodoo was feeling his way around and found a doorknob. He let go, backed away and simply kicked in the door. He flicked on the tactical flashlight he had mounted on his M4 and immediately Alexa Mitchell was blinded by the brightness, even from behind the light source.

"It looks like this door leads to the basement. There are stairs here." Voodoo said while he turned his light off. "The Taclight (tactical flashlight) is too bright. It fucks up your night vision." He explained. "Close your eyes, count to ten and open them. You'll be just fine."

The operator moved on without her while she closed and opened her eyes a few times. She brought her weapon up and followed the bearded soldier down to the basement. The two of them worked their way through pipes and gauges mounted on the wall until the leading man found what he was looking for, the power box.

"There it is." Voodoo stepped closer. Mitchell turned around to cover their six. "What the fuck…?"

"What is it?" Alexa whispered.

"Not good…"

And as if on cue, the duo heard the clicking sound. Like nails tapping on a door but slower, more menacing.

_Not nails, no. _Alexa thought. _More like claws…_

Sandman was getting a weird feeling in his gut. Something was wrong. Voodoo was one of the smartest men he knew. Why was it taking so long? This should've been fixed already. All kinds of thoughts and bad scenarios ran through Sandman's mind. But he was woken out of his thoughts by gunfire. He and Jackson both looked over the railing, down the stairs. All he could see was the opened front door to the office and a blur of scared female was running out. She climbed up the stairs as fast as she could, passing Sandman and Jackson. Sandman turned back and saw his comrade backing out slowly, his weapon at the high-ready.

Voodoo could see the stairs to his right but his target was still in front of him. He fired three rounds into the dark hallway and ran up the stairs. He pushed Sandman and Jackson into the room, then closed the door and locked it. Everyone was awake and in that single room by now.

Hicks looked at the operator with fear in his eyes and asked, "So what happened?"

Voodoo looked up. "They cut the power."

Martinez spoke up, "What do you mean _they _cut the power? How could they cut the power, man? They're zombies."

"No, not the zombies. Them…" Voodoo pointed out the window and in the distance, walking on the street, the group could barely make out several shapes.

"It's too dark. What did you see?" Rachel asked.

"That's the thing. I don't know."

The survivors all looked at Voodoo and Mitchell, except Julia Bennett, who had woken up and was staring out the window.

"Ummm, guys…?"

The survivors looked out as well and saw a tongue slowly whipping in front of the window. A six foot tongue leading to what looked like a skinned human walking on all fours. His muscles were showing and quite bloody, but the scariest part were his eyes.

Sandra turned to her father. "Daddy, I'm scared."

The thing had no eyes…

**Author's Note:** So, here is chapter 4. I gave you a closer look at the last two survivors, Jeff and Sandra Kowalski, the father/daughter pair. So that wraps is up for the character introductions. Now on to the character development involving horror and action! TIME FOR DEATH AND CHAOS! Mwahahahahaha… And while I read over this, I can't help but shake my head at how sappy and lovey-dovey it's getting. But, I guess that's what happens when you brainstorm with a girl. Anyway, I hope you liked it regardless. I threw in a bunch of little Resident Evil references in there, 1000 brownie points to the first person to spot all of them (there are 3). Also threw an Aliens reference in there, aside from the name "Hicks," 3000 brownie points to the first person to spot that! I know Sandman wasn't in this one that much, that was done on purpose. I felt he was getting a little too much screen time. He'll be back though. In the words of my friend Momo, "I like Sandman, he's a douche!" Anyway, be back for number 5! I hope you guys liked it! Please review!

**P.S.** So, just in case you're kinda lost, here's what we have:

US Army Special Forces:

Sergeant First Class James "Voodoo" Anderson, the leader

Staff Sergeant David "Sandman" Bealls, the haunted muscle-man

US Air Force Pararescuemen (PJ):

Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell, the quiet medic

US Marine Corps:

2nd Lieutenant William Hicks, the inexperienced officer

Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson, the crusty veteran

Private 1st Class Joe Martinez, the private ('nuff said)

Civilians:

Julia Bennett, the orphaned high school senior

Rachel Dempsey, the attractive lawyer

Jeff Kowalski, the pacifist veterinarian

Sandra Kowalski, Jeff's daughter

**List of songs for this chapter:**

Memories of a life forever ago: "I'm Your Puppet" Gregory and the Hawk

Father and Daughter: "For the Best" Gregory and the Hawk

Losing hurts…: "Scratches" John Frusciante (again, I know)

The Dark is everywhere…: "Friend of the Night" Mogwai

Enter, the beast of death…: "Ice Fight" Trocadero/Jeff Williams


	6. Scream

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter V**

The night was bright and full of life. Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell was using a flashlight she had in her buttpouch to guide her way. Right behind her were the two girls. She ran on the second floor outside hallway, trying to find a staircase that would lead them not only downstairs but also away from those things. She heard a loud curse and turned around. The Marine lieutenant had tripped in the midst of running and the veterinarian was helping him up. The platoon sergeant and lawyer were right behind them and the private was covering the rear.

The two operators were still at the front door of the room. They both had their Taclights on and were firing on whatever those beasts were. _But they weren't always freaks, were they? They were once human. They probably still are, just a little deformed. _Alexa shook herself out of those thoughts and kept running. There was a staircase leading downstairs about 40 feet in front of them. They were almost there!

One of the beasts landed right in front of her. Her M4 was sighted right on the vicious attacker but she couldn't pull the trigger. The L-shaped flashlight shone in her hand and she could clearly see what her enemy was. Before, when they first encountered the beasts in the basement, Voodoo saw it and told her to run. But now, Alexa had a clear view of what crouched before her.

After spending two tours overseas, one in Afghanistan and one in Iraq, Alexa Mitchell prided herself in not only being a qualified medic, but a crackshot under pressure as well. And here she was, freezing up under fire. Her eye twitched and she couldn't move.

The skinned humanoid seemed to be able to see despite not having any eyes. It turned its gaze on the woman in the front. The mouth opened and the six foot tongue slithered out. But suddenly the back of its head exploded, a gaping hole in the front, right in between the eyes. Sergeant Mitchell turned to her side and saw young Julia Bennett holding a smoking .45 caliber handgun.

"Keep moving Sergeant!" Lieutenant Hicks yelled from the back.

Mitchell blinked her eyes twice and Julia looked at her, as if to say: "What?"

The group started moving again and found those stairs. Sergeant Mitchell reached the bottom of the stairs first and when she touched the ground, she turned around to cover the retreating crowd. The eight survivors began to run down the street, away from the motel.

The Lieutenant was running for his life. He saw some light in the distance and noticed that it was a convenience store. Open 24/7, the sign said.

"Move to that store!" He shouted. "Double time Marines!"

The crowd ran as fast as they could to the store and once they got inside, the Marines stood guard by the door, allowing the civilians to catch their breath. Staff Sergeant Jackson was watching the street for the two operators they left behind. Everything happened so fast. One minute the power goes out and the next they're yelling to run for their lives.

Everything was so confusing. What happened? Rachel Dempsey looked at her hands. She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything that just happened in the last five or so minutes. _Voodoo and Alexa went to check the power. Sandman was standing guard with Staff Sergeant Jackson. Then there was gunfire and Alexa came running up the stairs, screaming that we needed to get out. Sandman ran down the stairs and he and Voodoo began shooting things. Alexa grabbed the girls and led us out of here with the Marines behind us. We ran down the street and we're in a convenience store now. Wait, Voodoo! And Sandman? Where are they?_ Rachel looked around. She could see the Staff Sergeant still looking out the window, looking for the two operators.

"What the fuck are those things Sir?" Private Martinez spoke up. He was out of breath and his helmet was off. "I mean, just what the fuck were they? Those were no zombies Sir. Their brains were showing Sir! I'm freaking out Sir. Those things are gonna come in here, they're gonna come in here and they're gonna be in here and they're gonna get us Sir!"

"Stow it Private!" Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson spoke up. "The LT don't have time, to be listenin' to your bullshit complainin' so shut the hell up an' focus on shootin' that SAW."

The older man turned back to the window and kept on staring. The two operators just weren't coming and the gunfire had stopped when they reached the store. Rachel joined the sergeant at the window. They could barely see outside, it was so dark.

Julia Bennett walked up to Rachel, the .45 caliber handgun still in her hands. She was holding back tears. The two men who saved her life by almost running her over with a car. They were supposed to be experts at surviving. Where were they?

The rest of them were gone. Mitchell had led them away from the motel, which was good. Voodoo swept his M4 from one side of the street to the other. He was breathing heavy. There was a lot of movement and he was starting to feel the effects. Sandman was to his left, reloading his SAW.

"Last drum. I only have 200 rounds left." He said as he put his SAW on safe. He slung his weapon and drew his pistol out. "I need to start conserving ammo. Of course I didn't pack that much to begin with."

"I'm running low too. 15 left in this mag, and I have four mags left." Voodoo wiped some sweat off his brow. "Shit, I forgot my Pro-tec. It's still at the motel."

"I'm not fucking getting it." Sandman smiled.

"You think it's clear?"

"I don't see shit man. Let's get the fuck out of here."

Voodoo nodded and looked behind him. Last time he saw the survivors, they were running towards that convenience store. "You think the LT got them killed?"

"If he did, all I'm gonna say is dibs on their ammo."

The younger operator looked at the burly man in shock and watched as his serious face broke into a smile. The two of them shared a laugh and moved away from their cover. Moving in a leapfrog fashion, the operators alternated from cover to cover.

"I can see 'dem!" Leroy Jackson shouted. Everyone looked at the man as he checked to make sure his weapon was loaded. "Sir, I would suggest sendin' me out there to provide cover as they make their way here."

The Lieutenant nodded and Jackson opened the door. Without hesitation, Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell put her helmet back on and followed him out. Rachel Dempsey checked her stolen handgun and followed as well. Private Martinez stood and waited for the Lieutenant.

"Mr. Kowalski, you stay here with the girls. Martinez, with me." The Lieutenant nervously said. The two Marines walked out and the armed crowd began to form a half-circle by the front door.

"There they are." Voodoo whispered. "I can see them."

Sandman nodded and the two quietly ran towards the rest of the group. Voodoo wanted to be in that building so bad he could taste it. There was no way those things were getting him.

Suddenly Voodoo's thoughts were interrupted. He felt a sudden weight fall on his back and knock him down. Voodoo looked to his side and saw Sandman taking aim at him. No, not him. His back!

"Get it off me!"

"Voodoo!" Rachel screamed. Staff Sergeant Jackson had to hold her to prevent her from running out there.

"I can't shoot it, I might hit you!" Sandman cried out.

"Bullet wound or infection? I'll fucking heal, fucker! Shoot it!" Voodoo yelled as he tried to get the beast off his back. The mutant freak wouldn't let go and its tongue slid out and wrapped around Voodoo's neck. He was losing the fight and Sandman still hadn't pulled the trigger yet.

It was as if everything had gone into slow-motion. The gunshot rang but the bullet didn't seem to hit its target until much later. Rachel was still being held back by Sergeant Jackson, screaming for Voodoo. Sandman stood there with a look of shock on his face. The fiend had been shot off his back and Voodoo stood up.

"Thanks man."

Sandman shook his head. "That wasn't me bro."

The sound of approaching mutants was getting louder and the two operators didn't have time to be surprised. Two of the tongued freaks were approaching and about ten infection victims were closing in.

Another gunshot rang. And another. And the two Special Forces operators saw the two clawed monsters drop, a bullet hole in their heads. There was a wheezing sound in the air and they automatically recognized it as a grenade flying through the air. They hid behind cover and noticed a M67 grenade land in the middle of the ghouls. It exploded and so did the zombies.

When it was clear, the survivors ran up to the operators. Rachel was the first to reach the men. She surprised everyone when she enveloped Voodoo in a big hug. The Marine Lieutenant walked up to them.

"That was some fancy shooting soldier." He turned to Sandman. "That was impressive, most impressive."

"_Why thank you Lieutenant."_ A muffled voice sounded.

The survivors turned to wreckage of a car. Leaning on the car was a dark figure. The lack of moonlight and the shadow cast by a balcony of a building were making it hard to see who was there. Voodoo and Sandman immediately aimed their weapons.

"_Please, don't shoot. I didn't mean to alarm anybody. Especially since I just saved your life."_ The muffled voice replied to the silent threats. The figure walked forward and both Voodoo and Mitchell turned on their respective lights. They were not expecting what they saw.

The man was dressed in a Multicam uniform and was armed to the teeth. He was wearing a gasmask with red lenses that seemed to glow when you shone a light on them. This guy was wearing military gear, but he had no patches, no name, nothing.

The Lieutenant stepped up front and had a scowl on his face. "I am Second Lieutenant William Hicks, 2nd platoon, 1st Marines. We were sent here to evacuate all personnel."

The gasmask man just stared at the man. _"I know exactly why you were sent here, and I was sent here since you fucked up. Now, if you're smart, you'll follow me."_

The Lieutenant was flabbergasted. Did no one care about his rank? He was a Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps! "Name, rank and serial number. I demand to know your name, rank and serial number. I'm not moving until you give us more information."

Jeff Kowalski, who had since caught up with the group from the store, looked at the Marine. "He did just save our lives." He turned back to the mysterious man. "Plus, he's got all the fancy stuff, maybe he's another Special Forces guy like Voodoo and Sandman."

Hicks noticed that this newcomer was wearing a Pro-tec helmet much similar to Voodoo's over his gasmask. But still, if this man did not provide a name, rank and serial number, he was not an enlisted man. Why would he listen to some military fanatic?

"_Look Lieutenant, you can boss your little Marines around and be high-speed, but that shit's just gonna get you killed. It'd be wise to listen."_ And with that, the man started walking. He was carrying a Heckler & Koch 416 rifle; a weapon that was only issued to the most elite America's military had to offer. Voodoo and Sandman followed and the civilians did as well.

Hicks watched as one by one, people started following this new guy, without knowing a single thing about him. _This man could be a serial killer, taking advantage of the situation_, Hicks thought.

"_Hey, you coming or what?"_ the gasmask wearing death bringer asked. _"You should come with me if you want to live."_ He reached behind his back and pulled a radio from his pouch. _"This is Kilo 6-4, I have more survivors. Moving to extraction now."_

With those words, everyone looked up. Extraction? As in, a way to get out of the city? This guy was an angel sent from heaven above!

Julia Bennett walked up to him. "Sir? Did you say extraction? Doesn't that mean leaving? Are you getting us out of here?"

The man nodded. _"That's the plan little lady."_

"Who are you?"

The man stared off into the distance, as if lost in thought.

"_Vicious…"_

**Author's Note:** This is chapter 5. Sorry if this one seemed a bit off compared to the others, I was a little distracted. Maybe I just have high hopes of myself. Hope everyone enjoyed it. To be honest, I'm not 100% happy with this one… Anyway, I owe The Road Warrior 4000 brownie points, what a loyal fan. Might as well give her my soul right? Who knew she'd catch all my references? Anyway, nothing much to say. Pretty self-explanatory chapter, I hope. PLUS I JUST INTRODUCED ANOTHER CHARACTER! WTF was I thinking? I hope you like this guy, I know I did enjoy writing him! Also, I started a new fanfic about Medal of Honor. Only the prologue is up right now, but I plan on continuing the story for a few chapters. Don't worry though, I still plan on updating this one every day while a taking a day's break here and there. The Medal of Honor fic, called "The Black Magic" is probably going to be a weekly thing, like every Monday or so. So I guess I'll see you in the world of survival horror tomorrow! Please review!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

Fighting in the dark…: "Scream" Slipknot

Vicious: "Old Snake" Metal Gear Solid 4 OST


	7. Wherein Lies Continue

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter VI**

The man known as Vicious was walking nonchalantly through the streets of San Antonio. Interstate Highway 10 was covered in wrecked cars and while the Marines were running from cover to cover, Vicious simply walked with no care in the world. The civilians were trying to keep up with his long strides and the Air Force sergeant was to his side, a smile on her face. _Just when it seemed like it was going to end for us, this guy shows up. With a radio, and a ride out of here. I knew they didn't forget us._

The two operators were a little bit ahead of the group, scouting ahead for any infected zombies or worse, the tongued freaks. Sandman paused to look back at the newcomer. _Just who is this guy? He sure did come prepared. I hope he really does a way out of here._

Sandman's thoughts were interrupted when the group heard a crackling. It was coming from the radio Vicious was carrying. He keyed his mic. "_This is Kilo 6-4, say again?"_ The survivors turned to him as he was listening to the person on the other side of the line. _"You want me to what? No, I understand what the situation is, I just don't see why… Right. Roger. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Out."_

Vicious stood still for a moment. It was like he was lost in thought, then he took his helmet off. While keeping it in one hand, he reached up and took his gasmask off. The breathing device landed on the concrete highway with a light thud. The crowd got a look of him. He was older than they thought, his age showing by his eyes and mouth. His brown hair was longer than military regulation, but it looked like it grew out of a military style. The thing that had people mesmerized was his eyes. They were so bright yet so dull. They were a deep brown, almost like milk chocolate, but the stare in them could give even the toughest man shivers.

He contemplated putting his helmet back on but decided against it first. He played around with the throat mic wrapped around his neck.

"You have something to say soldier? You better tell us." Lieutenant Hicks said, hoping to use his rank as a threat.

The older man looked up and gave a sad smile. "We're gonna have to wait. Our ride's encountering some snags. Which is good because that gives us time to rest before we start moving again." He walked over to car and hopped on the hood. The helmet was discarded and he fished a baseball cap out of his cargo pocket. He unfolded it and slapped it on his head. The black cap had a logo of a rooster and some teeth on the front.

The Lieutenant wasn't convinced. "Some snags? And what would those be?"

"Remember those weird things that attacked you? We gave them the name Lickers, and well, apparently they like to attack moving vehicles too."

Voodoo and Sandman walked up. The bearded operator smirked. "We should get going. There's a horde coming."

Vicious looked at the two and chuckled. "We'll be fine." He keyed his mic. "Dagger 3-1, it's Vicious. You in the air?" The grin turned into a big smile as he listened to the response. "Roger that. Hold one." He took his throat mic off and pulled his radio out. He unplugged the mic and turned up the volume. "Say again, over?"

"_I was saying, we could fire a few shots. Over_." Came the reply over the radio.

"Just wanted the civilians to hear that. Can you see us?"

"_Yes sir, I can see you and the _crowd with you sir."

All the military members looked surprised while the four others simply waited to see what this guy had planned. _Sir? This guy is an officer?_ No way. Hicks thought. Vicious sat very comfortably on the hood of the car while he looked to where Voodoo and Sandman were coming from. "You see a crowd to the north?"

_ "Yes sir."_

"Bring the rain. I authenticate, Kilo 6-4, Dodgson, Kilo, Echo, O-4."

_O-4? This guy's a Major? I am in deep shit now_, Hicks thought.

"Alright guys, I planned a little fireworks show for you. Don't try this at home kids."

The survivors looked ahead of them and noticed the mob of ghouls approaching. There was a dull bang and suddenly the dark sky lit up. Sandra Kowalski pulled on her father shirt and pointed to the plane that was high in the sky, circling above them. The military craft was leaning on its side and had the barrel of a large weapon was sticking out. That weapon was currently shooting up the advancing group of zombies.

Private Martinez started clapping and shouting. The girls hugged each other. Voodoo and Sandman just smiled at each other. This was it; this was the moment that made the survivors think everything was going to be fine.

"Alright, now that the street's cleared up, we should get going again. Our ride out of here is going to be here in 20 minutes and the rally point is 15 minutes away. Let's go." Vicious jumped off the car and started moving. Voodoo and Sandman walked over to the bodies and pulled out their handguns. They shot all the zombies in the head, just to be sure, and then followed the crowd.

The survivors were talking amongst themselves while they were walking. All except Voodoo and Vicious. No one had the courage to say anything to Vicious, despite him being nothing but friendly to them. And Voodoo, he was off in his little world, lost in thought. Rachel quickened her step to catch up to him.

"Hey, you alright there?" She asked.

"Me? Yeah, I'm good." The bearded soldier replied.

Rachel sighed. "You know, you had me worried there for a minute. I never got to ask you if you were alright. It felt like my heart stopped when I saw that thing, that, that… What did he call it? A Licker? Man, when that Licker attacked you, I got so scared."

The Army sergeant looked at her. Her eyes were tearing up. "I don't even know why," she continued. "I just met you today. And for some reason, I feel myself wishing I could grab you and hold on to you. You're almost like a security blanket to me." She blushed.

"Yesterday." Rachel looked up at the operator and saw that he had slid his Oakley sunglasses on at night to hide his eyes. "You said we met today. We actually met yesterday, it's past midnight."

Rachel Dempsey had never been so upset about being rejected before. She was telling a man she just met that she wanted to grab the guy and he corrects her grammar? She blinked her eyes a few times and looked back at the operator. He had a small smile on this face as he refused to make eye contact with her.

Voodoo cleared his throat and furrowed his eyebrows. "When we get out of here, would you want to, maybe, go to dinner sometime?" His finger was nervously playing with the safety on his M4.

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." Rachel smiled.

Vicious' voice interrupted their moment. "There it is."

Voodoo mentally slapped himself. He was so distracted by the lawyer that forgot to look around for threats. He looked ahead and saw a cleared parking lot. There were signal flares everywhere and glowing chemlites on the ground in a circle. The glowsticks were in a circle to mark the rendezvous point.

When the crowd arrived, the tension was high. The civilians were so excited to get out of the city. Sandman knew not to let his guard down. It's right before you're done when you get hit the hardest. His SAW was sweeping across the landscape when he saw headlights.

"They're here!" He shouted.

The five Humvees were driving in a line, gunner in the turrets and an Army Black Hawk helicopter was flying overhead. Vicious' radio crackled again. _"Sir, Dagger 3-1 here. We can see the extraction force from here. We're heading back to base. Good luck Sir, out."_

"Roger that, see you back home!" Vicious replied.

The girls were crying and laughing and Rachel Dempsey was hugging Voodoo. Vicious walked up to the Lieutenant.

"Hicks, you did well out there. Considering what you boys have been through, you pulled it off. You just lost too many people and my guys got called in. But you Lieutenant, you did okay." He smiled and reached in his pocket. He put a patch with a Major's insignia on some Velcro tape on his vest. "You did good."

Seeing the rank on the man's chest made the young lieutenant embarrassed. "Yes Sir, thank you Sir."

The Humvees were getting really close now but the helicopter banked and the door gunner opened fire into the bushes to the side of the vehicles. One of the turret gunners yelled something down to the driver and started shooting as well. The survivors' looks of happiness turned into looks of horror as a swarm of Lickers appeared from the vegetation. Each Humvee had three or four Lickers on them and the convoy stopped.

The Black Hawk was hovering in the air while the gunners were shooting. Voodoo and Sandman dropped to a knee and began to shoot at the Lickers while trying not to hit the vehicles or the people inside them.

Vicious looked horrified. "…" he said over and over. He aimed his elite HK416 and shot the Lickers wherever he could.

"Contact behind us!" Air Force Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell yelled as she opened fire on a horde of zombies that was approaching them. Private Martinez joined her with his SAW and Rachel Dempsey fired her stolen police handgun.

Sandra Kowalski was clutching her baseball bat while her father was holding her close to him. She could feel the tears running down her face as she saw the turret gunners in the Humvees were ripped out of the turrets by the Lickers. The Black Hawk was still hovering as a Licker was staring at it. It was unsure if a Licker used to be human, but it could think like one. It whipped its tongue as hard and far as it could and managed to wrap it around the helicopter's tail. It pulled with all its might and managed to make the bird sway. The pilots tried to maintain balance, but it was already too late. One of the door gunners lost his footing and fell out of the helo. The Lickers and zombies swarmed the man and tore him too pieces.

The helicopter was pulled closer to the ground as it tried to gain altitude. More Lickers wrapped their tongues around the fuselage and a few managed to leap high enough to scratch the underside of the aircraft. The Lickers pulled one more time and succeeded in bringing the helicopter down long enough to have two Lickers jump on board. The bird began to fly away as the two pilots and the remaining crew chief were slaughtered on board.

In the meantime, the passengers of the Humvees had disembarked and were shooting the Lickers, slowly losing the fight. By the time the Black Hawk crashed, some 300 feet away, the team that was supposed to rescue the survivors was wiped out. The survivors could only stare at the carnage before them. The remaining Lickers and zombies turned to them and started closing in for the kill.

Voodoo looked at Vicious while he reloaded his weapon. Vicious couldn't believe what he was seeing. His men were supposed to be the heroes. They were not supposed to be tossed around like ragdolls. Vicious was pissed. He switched to full automatic and let loose on the beasts. The mutants were dropping, Licker and zombie alike.

There was scraping noise and the crowd turned to see what it was. They turned to see a ten foot giant, bare-chested with an executioner's hood over his head. He was wearing leather pants and had a butcher's apron on, covered in blood. Zombies were pushed out of the way and Lickers jumped away. The Executioner was dragging a gigantic axe and he was heading in their direction…

**Author's Note:** ROOSTER TEETH/RED Vs BLUE SHOUT OUT! So, here is chapter 6! I hope you liked it. I see this story turning into something big and these first six chapters were setting the scene for the real story to begin. This is going to be real survival horror. The keyword being "survival" since that's what they're going to need to do. I planned this to be a long-term event with everything going against them from the beginning (I even have a notebook with some scribbles about what I have planned) and I do hope you'll stick around to survive with the crowd as they fight to make it out. I also hope you guys like Vicious. When I was writing characterizations for my cast of people, I originally had the first 10 characters planned, but I kept thinking there was something missing. Someone who was half military, half civilian because I wanted someone who had something logical to say every time. I wanted someone who was never wrong and was the perfect role model and then have everything blow up in his face. Someone who was used to getting things done quick and easy and then be thrown in a situation that is everything but! I was playing a little bit of Resident Evil 5 Mercenaries and I grew bored. So, I switched to RE4 and was playing as Hunk. Suddenly it hit me; I need a cool killer like Hunk and fuck him up! When I was writing out his back story, I also envisioned him kind of like that crazy guy from Army of Two, with the Joker Smile… What's his name? Anyway, here's the new guy and the new chapter, now please review and be back for chapter 7!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

The One Known As Vicious: "Let's Play Clowns" Minus the Bear

Bring the rain…: "Bodies" Drowning Pool

Attack the Convoy: "Wherein Lies Continue" Slipknot

Survival Horror: "My Plague" Slipknot


	8. Falling Again

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter VII**

If there was anything Major Kenneth Dodgson learned in his years as an operator, it was to never hesitate. He enlisted in 2001, after college, and went through basic training. When he was done, he was sent to OCS. The young lieutenant quickly found himself looking at a pamphlet for Special Forces and tried out for Selection the first chance he got. It took him two tries, but he passed. Unfortunately for him, he never got to see any action as a Special Forces operator. Then a captain, he was selected to try out for the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment- Delta or simply known as CAG. The most common name for them, even amongst civilians was Delta Force, the most elite group the Army had to offer.

Ten years after his enlistment, and four of those being a Delta, Major Dodgson had seen all kinds of shit. He spent two years in Afghanistan, working under the codename Vegas in a Tier 1 AFO team, behind enemy lines. He had transcended simple human thought processes and was what he called, simply fearless.

Looking at the giant holding the axe in front of him was making the Major scared shitless. Major Ken "Vicious" Dodgson stared the giant down and took his helmet off. _Never hesitate!_ He steadied his weapon and began shooting the Executioner. Voodoo and Sandman looked at the officer as if he had lost his mind. Why piss off the man holding the gigantic axe?

Vicious was landing headshot after headshot. A little grin grew on his face until he heard that familiar click. Out of ammo. He threw his weapon down; there was no time to reload. He charged at the giant, drawing his sidearm. Staying true to Delta tradition, he chose a customized Colt M1911 .45 caliber as his sidearm. Within the group, there was a running joke saying that you could always tell who was a Delta by the shooting callus those Colts gave you with their wicked recoil.

Sandman was hesitantly shooting the giant with his SAW when he saw the one known as Vicious charge at him with a Colt. While running, every shot he fired found its target in the Executioner's hood. Seven shots later, Vicious jumped on the hood of a nearby car and reloaded. As soon as the first bullet slid in the chamber, Vicious was on his feet again. He was closing in on the giant and drew his knife.

Three feet away. He was three feet away, but that was good enough. The Executioner was reeling from all the bullets he absorbed and began to stumble. It was clutching at its face with the left hand and Vicious charged those last few feet with his knife first. He forgot the right hand though and never saw the axe coming.

Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson could feel time stand still as the giant Executioner impaled the soldier on its axe. Air Force Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell gasped as the older operator screamed out. The bloody piece of metal was in the process of slicing the man and no one did a thing. The horrific scene before them was painful to watch and yet no one could move a muscle.

The dying man could see all the zombies and Lickers approaching him and the Executioner. He looked up and saw Voodoo. He tried to point away from the gore. _"Humvee…"_ he mumbled. Voodoo read his lips and his eyes grew large. The bearded operator turned around and saw the bloodied Humvees standing there empty. The Lickers had walked away from the vehicles to see the carnage that the Executioner was causing.

"Everyone to the trucks!" Voodoo shouted. The survivors looked at him with confusion. Voodoo nodded to the dying man and began to run to the Humvees. Suddenly everyone understood. Sandman and Private Martinez opened fire on the Lickers who spotted them. Voodoo and Lieutenant Hicks arrived at the convoy. They both looked inside through the open doors and found them to be clear. Staff Sergeant Jackson was reloading his weapon, and then hopped in the driver's seat in one of the trucks. Hicks jumped in the passenger side and the Kowalski family members dove into the backseats. Private Martinez climbed into the turret.

Voodoo jumped in the driver's seat of the lead Humvee. Mitchell guided Julia and Rachel into the backseats before she jumped in the passenger seat. Sandman stood beside the vehicle for a split second. He didn't know why, but he felt as if he had to see this to the end. This man was sacrificing himself to get these survivors out of there. He stood stoically as the Delta was being forced to the ground by the giant.

Vicious was pinned to the concrete by the axe. The Executioner was trying to pull the blade free from his body to make the coup de grace, but the Delta wouldn't allow it. He was holding the axe inside his own body with one hand and reaching for his pouch with the other. _Must never hesitate._ His fingers felt the smooth sphere and he grabbed his last weapon. He brought the grenade to his mouth and bit down on the pin. _Never hesitate_. For being fearless, Vicious sure was scared shitless. _Never hesitate._ For a moment, he contemplated not pulling the pin but he had to. Everyone else as relying on him. _Never hesitate_. Vicious pulled the pin with his teeth and dropped the grenade at the Executioner's feet.

The explosion was deafening and Sandman looked away. He hopped into the turret and the Humvees began to drive. Not a word was said. Voodoo just drove away. Jackson was right behind him and the two trucks barreled through abandoned cars. Nothing was gonna stop them.

The Humvees continued to drive down Interstate Highway 10. Through the windows, the survivors could see the zombies taking over the city of San Antonio, Texas. There was silence hanging in the air. They had found transportation, but the radios weren't working and they had no idea where to go. Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell had found a map but saw that a lot of it was scratched out. Apparently the infection was spreading faster than the relief efforts anticipated. The Marines couldn't evacuate fast enough and the Army's Delta Force was wiped out. She sighed and put the map away. According to the street signs, they were heading north and that was good enough for her. They passed an overrun barricade and Mitchell couldn't help but feel defeated.

Voodoo looked at the landscape and saw something that caught his attention. Something that was perfect for them. He took the next exit and made sure the second Humvee was following. They drove on the winding streets through the hills outside the San Antonio city limits. Even though the streets were deserted, it seemed as if the infection hadn't reached this area yet. Alexa looked on the Humvee's GPS system and looked for any clue of what had Voodoo smiling. She looked up and saw his destination. For the first time in several hours, Alexa Mitchell smiled.

Sergeant First Class James Anderson, also known as Voodoo, parked his vehicle in front of a gate. He stepped out and shot the lock on the gate. He pulled it open and got back inside. He drove inside and the second Humvee followed. The survivors pulled over and got out of their trucks. Voodoo ran back to close the gate.

The group looked around; there was nothing special about this place. It was a gate that led to a walled alley. And at the end of this protected driveway was…a palace. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but still. Sandman looked at the compound. It was gated, protected by walls and the house itself. That was just amazing.

Voodoo was the first to break the lingering silence. "I saw this on the hill while we were driving. I figured we could use this as a place to stay. Doesn't look like those freaks are here, which gives us plenty of time to rest up, maybe take a shower or so. If the Lickers followed us, we still have a head start." He started walking to the front door. "At least we have the walls, and the gate." He tried the door and found it unlocked. Voodoo slung his rifle and drew his sidearm. He cleared the house and found it to be empty. The Marines guided the survivors after him and Mitchell was covering the rear. She stopped at the door when she noticed that Sandman was following them inside. Instead he had set his gear down and grabbed a shovel (E-tool!) from the Humvee. The girls, Sandra and Julia, ran back to the front door to see what was taking Sandman and saw him digging some dirt. Alexa smiled at the girls and went inside.

Staff Sergeant David Bealls, better known as the intimidating Sandman, was making a mound of dirt. He flattened the top of it and when the mound was big enough, he reached into his pouch and fished out a spent bullet casing. He used it to write VICIOUS on the mound. Sandman then placed that casing on top as well. He bowed his head and said a quick, silent prayer. Bealls looked up into the sky and smiled. He then went inside, followed by the girls who watched everything happen.

The house was amazing. It had six bedrooms and three bathrooms. There were two living rooms and the kitchen was stocked! Rachel Dempsey already called dibs on one of the showers and she was currently enjoying the warm water. It washed away the blood and grime on her body. It also washed away the feelings of sadness and depression. She closed her eyes and saw the unfortunate death of the man who was ready to give everything to get her and the others out of the infected city.

_And that giant, he got what he deserved. Although, I wish Vicious didn't have to die. He was a good man._ Rachel thought. She turned the water off and looked for the towel she had placed right by the shower stall.

The Marines were giving the fallen operator a memorial toast. Apparently the fridge had a few beer cans and even though they were on duty, they were remembering a fallen comrade. The lawyer came into the kitchen, hair still wet. The survivors were finally given a break. Thanks to the sacrifice of Major Kenneth "Vicious" Dodgson.

Jeff Kowalski turned out to be a good cook. He had prepared a meal for the ten survivors while the others were watching the television. Apparently the infection had spread and the entire country was put on alert. The entire state of Texas was declared a quarantine zone. There was still no cause announced but the infection was extremely dangerous. Lieutenant Hicks had turned off the TV, calling the media useless. The Kowalski father had picked that time to call everyone to the dining room table.

The meal looked amazing. There was an awkward silence while no one made a move. Sandra Kowalski decided to be the first to try her father's cooking and began scooping food onto her plate. The ice being broken, the others began to prepare their meals. They even started talking amongst themselves and for a moment, the ten survivors looked a family, sharing a meal together.

The meal was delicious. Everyone could agree with that. The girls were already done after their first plate, but the Marines were still going at it. Even Sandman and Voodoo were enjoying themselves.

The moment was interrupted when a loud bang was heard. The noise sounded like it came from outside. It sounded like it came from… The gate! The two operators were the first ones up. They ran to the door, weapons in hand. They posted up, one on either side of the door and Sandman opened the door. There wasn't a single survivor who could believe what they saw.

He stood ten feet tall, was bare chested and wore a butcher's apron. He was covered in blood and wore an executioner's hood. He was missing a chunk of flesh from his leg and his left arm was missing. In his right hand, he held a gigantic axe.

Vicious had failed…

The Executioner was back…

**Author's Note:** 2 HUGE TWISTS! So here is chapter 7. I certainly hope you enjoyed it. I hope I threw everyone off by introducing such a character with such a background and a reason to bring him in. And then bring the Executioner back? WTF? So, there's a Medal of Honor reference (not including the name Voodoo or Wolfpack) in here as well. Hope you find it. Anyway, be back for number 8. And yes, I know this one's a little short too. Please review or you can be like The Road Warrior and just shower me with awesomeness! THE ROAD WARRIOR SHOUT OUT! Also, I was wondering, should I keep including a list of songs to listen to while reading? Please answer and review!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

The Executioner: "Falling Again" Lacuna Coil

Everyone dies, but not everyone lives…: "Main Theme" Metal Gear Solid 3 Snake Eater

Driving: "Mystline" Nujabes

The Dominion of Palaces: "A Firm Kick" John Frusciante

Water to wash away the pain…: "Doubtful" Gregory and the Hawk


	9. For the Best

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter VIII**

Vicious had failed…

The Executioner was back…

"Fuck…"

Sandman cursed. Sure, he was missing an arm, but he was still standing. As maimed as he was, a simple gate wasn't going to stop him. The axe in his hand was covered in blood and there were some scratches from where the grenade hit it. What was it gonna take to take this freak out? He looked down the EOTech Red Dot sight that he had mounted on his SAW and opened fire, every round finding their target.

The Executioner dropped his axe and clutched his face with his one remaining hand, but in doing so caused his hand to get shot up. Sandman continued to shoot at the face, knowing that he was running low on bullets. Voodoo took a knee right beside him and aimed his M4 at the giant as well. The operators were hurting the Executioner and the others just stood there in shock.

Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell ran to their side and joined in as well. Rachel Dempsey added her stolen police handgun to the torrent of violence that was directed towards the axe-wielding giant. The Executioner grunted and grabbed his axe. He rose to his full height and threw the axe as hard as he could. The weapon flew the air, towards the four shooters. Sandman dropped to his stomach and Mitchell dove out of the way. The lawyer, Rachel Dempsey, stood there as the thrown blade was racing to her.

Everything went into slow motion. Rachel could see her life flash by. Memories of her childhood, living in Seattle, Washington, high school, her parents, her friends, law school, her first kiss, Voodoo… And everything went black.

The axe sailed through the air and impacted into the side of the house. Sandman kept on firing until his SAW ran dry. That was it. He had no more bullets. The operator drew his sidearm and aimed at the giant. His eyes grew large when he saw that while everyone was shooting at the butcher, Julia Bennett had made her way to the Executioner. He towered over the eighteen year old and reached for her with his one good hand. The young Bennett girl narrowed her eyes and raised her father's Colt M1911 .45 caliber handgun with both hands. She aimed down the sights and prepared for the painful recoil. The gun went off and she let a scream out.

The .45 caliber bullet ripped right through the Executioner's skull. He dropped to his knees and fell forward. Sandman approached the fallen giant, still holding his sidearm. He fired the weapon twice and the killer didn't even twitch. The Executioner was finally dead. The operator turned to the young girl and saw her face was covered in tears. She was silently crying as she dropped the handgun into the dirt below. Sandman holstered his sidearm and hugged the sobbing girl.

Jeff Kowalski and Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell ran up to Voodoo, who was on the floor. He groaned and rolled onto his back to reveal Rachel Dempsey, in one piece. He had tackled her to the ground right before the axe hit her and knocked her out on accident. Both Jeff and Sergeant Mitchell took their backpacks off and began to inspect Rachel. Voodoo sat up and saw Lieutenant Hicks holding his hand out. He took the hand and Hicks helped him up.

Sandman and Julia walked back to the crowd and watched as Jeff and Sergeant Mitchell ensured that the lawyer was in good shape, just unconscious. Staff Sergeant Jackson had joined the group as well and he brought young Sandra with him. Voodoo and Sandman picked up the unconscious lawyer and the crowd began to walk back toward the house. There was a sound of a car engine and the garage door opened. Private Martinez backed out of the driveway in a Ford Explorer and drove the SUV over to the downed gate, right in front of the exposed opening. The Marine got out and joined up with the others. Hicks looked at the Private and he just shrugged as if to say, 'just in case.'

The operators had taken the lawyer to a bedroom and laid her down. She was stirring and Voodoo took her shoes off. He set them next to the bed and he tucked her in. She moaned and slowly opened her eyes. Voodoo leaned closer and kissed her forehead.

"You knocked your head. So, Jeff is gonna watch over you to make sure you don't have a concussion. And I'm gonna be right here in this corner." Voodoo pulled up a chair.

The rest of the day was without anything out of the ordinary. The Marines stocked the two Humvees with food and some blankets. They also found some flashlights and another baseball bat. Alexa sat on the front porch for the most part, staring at the dead Executioner.

The afternoon slowly turned into night as the survivors were getting ready to spend their second night in the midst of the infection. The walls were high enough to stop the zombies, the Ford Explorer was blocking the only entrance. The Humvees were parked in the garage and all the doors were locked. Everything seemed safe.

After dinner, Julia and Sandra fell asleep in the living room while they were watching TV. Sandman approached the two to swipe the remote. He was about to turn it off when he looked at what they were watching before they both began their slumber. It was the news and apparently the infection had broken through the quarantine. Oklahoma, New Mexico and Arizona were getting hit too. This infection was getting bad and no one could stop it. Army National Guard units were getting wiped out and several Marines units sent to evacuate the civilians simply lost contact with headquarters. Sandman shook his head and turned the TV off. He took his gear off and sat down in a recliner. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted away.

After he confirmed that the lawyer did not have a concussion, Jeff Kowalski went downstairs and made another amazing meal. And after dinner, he saw his daughter sleeping on the sofa with the other young high school student. Jeff smiled and walked to the office. He was surrounded by old books and his smile grew bigger. He grabbed one and started reading.

The Marines were still in the kitchen, finishing the leftovers. The three raised their glasses and made another toast to the fallen Vicious. If not for him, they wouldn't be alive.

Voodoo took his vest off and put it on a nightstand. He took his ACU shirt off as well and popped his neck. He took one last glance at the sleeping lawyer and walked into the adjoining bathroom. After looking through a few drawers, he found the three items he was looking for. He took his tan Army t-shirt off and turned on the faucet. He wet his beard and began cutting it with some scissors he found. When the hair was short enough, he put shaving cream on his face and started shaving his Afghani styled beard.

When he was done, Voodoo put his t-shirt back on. He shaved everything off, but left some stubble. He walked back into the bedroom and saw Rachel Dempsey awake and staring at him. He smiled and approached the nightstand. He began to take his pistol holster off. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"A lot better now. What happened though? I don't remember much, I just remember that axe flying at me."

"I took you down. Threw myself on you." Voodoo blushed slightly at the thought of his body laying on top of hers.

"Sounds hot." Rachel joked. "So, now what?"

"We barricaded the walls, blocked what's left of the gate and locked all the doors. We're staying here for the night."

"You shaved." Voodoo nodded. "So, tell me James, what's gonna happen next?"

Voodoo smiled at the sound of his birth name. "I was gonna scoot this chair next to the bed and take a nap next to you."

Rachel narrowed her eyes seductively. "If you want to be next to me, there's plenty of room on the bed."

Voodoo was taking his boots off. He looked at her face. _Why is she being sexy? Why? At a time like this? Why am I considering her offer?_ Voodoo shook his head. "We shouldn't…"

"Shouldn't what?" Rachel interrupted. "Shouldn't be kind enough to offer a bed to a tired person?"

James Anderson didn't know what it was about her. There they were, in the middle of a life or death situation and the Army sergeant was thinking about getting into bed with an attractive woman. He nodded and climbed into bed, except he was on top of the blanket. Rachel smiled and playfully punched his shoulder. Hesitantly, he got under the sheets. Rachel tried to scoot a little closer without him noticing. Voodoo felt some movement in the bed, but was too preoccupied taking his watch off. He set the alarm for a time three hours from then and set it on the nightstand with the rest of his gear.

He turned to her and found her closer to him than he thought. There was a look in her eyes and Voodoo couldn't help it. He leaned in and their lips touched…

Rachel awoke with the sun peeking through the curtains. It was light out and she was alone in bed. She sat up and shook her head. Why couldn't she remember what happened? Why was she alone? Where was… Voodoo? The lawyer got out of bed and found herself clad in only a bra and panties. Her clothes were discarded on the floor and she put her shirt and skirt back on. Her coat was on the night stand where Voodoo had put his stuff the night before.

There were noises coming from downstairs. Rachel slowly made her way down and walked into the kitchen. The father/daughter Kowalski team was busy making breakfast. Sandman and Julia were at the dining table and the Marines were watching the news. Rachel looked around and the front door opened. Technical Sergeant Mitchell walked in, followed by Voodoo. He looked different.

He had rifled through the closet earlier and found some clean clothes that fit him. He was clad in a white t-shirt and some jeans. He still wore his boots and his Oakley gloves, and his vest was still on. He no longer wore a helmet and his beardless face was covered by his sunglasses.

Voodoo noticed that Rachel had woken up and approached her. He stood really close to her and smiled.

"I hope you slept well. You looked so comfy, I slipped out without waking you up, and I hope you don't mind. I just wanted to check the outside before we went on our way again." Voodoo spoke. He leaned in after making sure no one was looking and kissed her on the cheek.

Rachel blushed and walked to the dining table. She sat down next to Julia who just looked at her with a confused look on her face. The Kowalskis served everyone and the group all sat down to eat. Hicks stood up in the middle of the meal.

"Voodoo and I have been talking about it for a few hours now, but I want to know. What do you guys think about staying here until rescue comes? We have food, water, electricity. Everything you could need is here. We have weapons and vehicles. The radios may not work, but if given a few days, I'm sure we could fix them. I say we stay until help arrives."

Staff Sergeant Jackson and Private Martinez nodded, they agreed with the young officer. The two Kowalskis were in too. Julia was with them as Sandman and Mitchell stayed quiet. Rachel looked at Voodoo.

"What do you think?"

"I think we need to stay on the move." He surprised everyone. "The longer we stay in one place, the sooner they'll find us. I say, we keep driving. But that's just me. If you guys want to stay, I guess I'll stay with you."

Hicks hesitated for a second but smiled big.

"Alright, it's settled. We'll stay a little longer before heading out."

The crowd cheered and resumed eating. Voodoo got up and left the table. He stood by the window at the front door and stared off into the distance. He couldn't see over the wall and little did he know, the house was about to be swarmed. There were zombies and Lickers approaching from all sides, and all the survivors didn't know a single thing.

They were eating breakfast…

**Author's Note:** Here is chapter 8. Sorry for the opening, I know that Julia Bennett wouldn't really do such a thing. I mean, come on, what 18 year old rushes an Executioner and acts all freakin' Sucker Punch on the guy? I guess you can say my OC was OOC! LOL! So, the Executioner is dead, and our heroes are happy, but for how long? Anyway, this one was a little sappy again, but apparently it's a good thing. Come back for chapter 9! Please review!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

Fighting the Executioner: "Me Inside" Slipknot

The End of You: "Living is a Problem Because Everything Dies" Biffy Clyro

Relaxing: "Bicycle Song" Red Hot Chili Peppers

The night… "For the Best" Gregory and the Hawk

The next morning: "Fever" The Stowaways


	10. Be Quiet and Drive Far Away

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter IX**

"Breakfast was great, Jeff." Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson said. Over the course of this fight to survive, the two older gentlemen had been getting along, even having some hobbies in common. The survivors were roaming around in the house and left the two men behind. Jeff Kowalski was washing the dishes, while the Sergeant was finishing his coffee. "I really envy ya. Them is sum good cookin' skills."

The veterinarian smiled. "Thanks Leroy. You know, Jill always made me do breakfast in the weekends, when we were both home from work. I know Sandra loved her mom's cooking but she told once that she secretly liked my breakfasts more." The smile faded when he thought of his deceased wife.

Leroy stayed quiet out of respect. He knew that the father was thinking of his wife. The Marine put a hand on the grieving man's shoulder and walked away. This situation was getting out of hand. They needed to be rescued, and fast.

Feeling more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans, Voodoo had his vest laying on the railing to the porch. He was readjusting his pouches and pulled his magazines out. He threw his empty ones in the dirt and consolidated all his ammunition. When all his bullets were put together, he had a total of 45 rounds left. _A mag and a half, not good_. He had three 40 millimeter grenades left for his grenade launcher. _Also not good_. The only good news was that his Sig Sauer P226 sidearm was fully loaded. The handgun fired 9mm bullets and he had 120 bullets for it. _Worst case scenario, I still have my knife_. His fingers traced the Strider Knife he had sheathed on his vest.

Rachel was watching go through his routine. She looked to the rocking chair that was on the porch and saw Sandman doing the same thing as well. She had to admit, Voodoo was looking damn hot in a white t-shirt and some jeans. He was still wearing his Oakley gloves and boots and his handgun was still strapped to his thigh, but he looked hot without all that military equipment. She watched every movement Voodoo made and noticed how his muscular arms moved about his gear. The same arms that were wrapped around her and made her feel so warm. There was no doubt, she was falling for him.

There was a weird scratching noise and the two operators looked up. Rachel turned around with a cup of coffee in her hands. The noise stopped as soon as the three were on guard. Sandman scowled. His SAW had run out of ammunition and he threw it in the Humvee. All he had was Browning sidearm. He slipped his vest and drew the handgun.

Voodoo slipped his vest on as well and gently pushed Rachel towards the door. He slung his M4 and drew his sidearm. The two operators moved to the where the Ford Explorer was parked. The SUV was still blocking the hole in the wall where the gate used to be. Sandman was in the front and held a hand up. Voodoo froze.

Sandman carefully approached the SUV and tried to listen for anymore scratching noises. Voodoo looked around as he walked to the other soldier. They inspected the Explorer and had barely enough time to move when the SUV was thrown into the air. The two watched as the Explorer landed with a crash. Sergeant Mitchell was the first one out of the house.

While minding her own business, Alexa Mitchell was enjoying her stay at the house. She had taken a shower earlier that morning and had replaced her tan Air Force t-shirt for a simple black Metallica t-shirt she found in one of the closets. She had left her ABU shirt and t-shirt on the floor and looked at the shemagh wrapped around her arm. Voodoo had tied it as a makeshift bandage. Her arm stopped bleeding and she tied a smaller bandage to replace the blood-soaked Arabic headdress. She put her gear over the borrowed Metallica shirt and walked to the dining room just in time for breakfast.

Now, full of food and coffee, the Air Force medic was relaxing on the sofa in the living room. She was watching the two girls talk about teen idols and smiled. Considering everything she had been through, she was definitely enjoying this down time. The lawyer suddenly appeared in the living room and said something along the lines of weird noises outside. Mitchell grabbed her M4 and ran outside. She arrived just in time to see the Ford Explorer land next to the house with a loud crash and the two operators surrounded by Lickers.

Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell was proud of her shooting skills. She raised her weapon and brought her sights on the first mutant. She exhaled and pulled the trigger. The Licker dropped, a trail of blood running down its head. She smiled and continued shooting.

Sandman had dropped to a knee. His handgun was smoking and he was still shooting. The Lickers were dropping one at a time, but they were thinning out. Voodoo had drawn his knife and stood in a two-handed close quarters combat stance, his handgun and knife ready.

The Marines had rushed outside and opened fire. The Lickers were slowly dying but the infected began to pour in. Hicks took charge.

"Get to the Humvees!" He ordered.

The civilians ran outside and headed to the vehicles with the bags of supplies they had packed. Before they could reach them though, a Licker had scaled the wall and was now within striking distance of the four non-combatants. The Licker's tongue was slithering out of its mouth and it hunched over, poised and ready to jump. The tongue whipped out and knocked Rachel down to the ground. The Licker landed on the ground, feet away from the girls. Jeff ran and stood in between them. The mutant batted at the man and he too, fell. The girls stood by, frozen with fear. The baseball bat and handgun in their hands didn't seem to matter. The Licker had them. The tongue lashed out and found a target, but however, the target was not one of the girls.

Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson saw the Licker about to pounce on the girls and threw himself in the mix. He felt the Licker's tongue wrap around his neck and he could feel his airway getting restricted. He dropped his M16 and pulled out his sidearm. It was a crude Beretta 9mm but it would get the job done. He used the close distance between himself and the Licker to his benefit and fired without aiming, knowing that the pistol would find its mark regardless.

The Licker could feel its life draining but still held on the human in its grasp. As the Staff Sergeant kept shooting, the Licker began reeling its tongue in, bringing the man closer. The last thing the Licker did before it died was stab the man in the chest with its claws. There was something hard blocking its path, but the armor would be futile against the Licker. The Kevlar vest Jackson was wearing was skewered and the man felt the Licker kill him.

The mutant dropped dead and its tongue relaxed. Its claws retracted out of Jackson's chest and the older man dropped to his knees. He reached for his weapon and handed it to the young Kowalski girl. He pulled out the remaining ammo he had and dropped the magazines as he fell to the ground.

Jeff Kowalski had picked himself up in time to see the Marine take the hit meant for his daughter. He saw the Marine kill the Licker and he saw the Marine die in front of him. Sandra handed the discarded weapon to Rachel, who also picked up the ammo. The lawyer looked at the veterinarian.

The Kowalskis jumped into one of the vehicles, while Julia and the lawyer hopped in the other. The Marines provided covering fire while the operators moved back towards the house. Mitchell ran to one of the trucks and jumped in the turret. She turned to face the ghouls and opened fire with the M2 .50 caliber machine gun on top.

The operators got into their Humvee and the remaining Marines retreated as well. The two vehicles started up and began leaving the compound. The infected standing in the way were run over. The vehicles sped off and Voodoo led them back to the highway. Martinez was in the second turret, facing the rear. He was scanning the landscape, making sure nothing was following them. There was movement in the distance.

The Private looked down at the driver. "Uhhh, Mr. Kowalski? We have something following us."

The Lieutenant sitting in the passenger seat looked at the gunner. "Well? What is it Private?"

"I don't know Sir…" Came the reply.

The Lieutenant looked in the mirror to the side. He could vaguely see some shapes getting closer and closer. They almost looked like…skinned dogs. Martinez opened fire. He was lighting up whatever was chasing them, but they just kept coming. The Humvees were speeding down Interstate Highway 10 with close to twenty Hellhounds chasing them.

Sandman was trying to use the GPS Mitchell couldn't work.

"Voodoo?"

The driver turned to the operator. "Maybe we should head to the hill country. Use the lack of people and the terrain to our advantage."

Voodoo nodded and kept on driving; paying close attention to the directions Sandman gave him. Mitchell was in the turret, her head barely looking over the weapon. She heard gunfire behind her and she turned to see Martinez shooting at the pursuing canines. The medic leaned down.

"Voodoo! We have chasers! Some kind of dog-things are chasing us."

The operator began swerving, hoping the Marines behind him would follow his lead. The two Humvees drove off and the Hellhounds that survived Martinez's onslaught slowed down. The chase was done.

Martinez stopped shooting and sighed. Voodoo saw the truck behind him stop shooting in the mirror and slowed down a little. The convoy followed the highway and began heading west, towards the hills.

Silence fell over the group. They had lost another comrade. Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson. The survivors had stopped at a rest stop, just to catch their breath and also pay final respects to the fallen Marine. When it was time to drive on, Hicks jumped in the driver's seat while Jeff was the passenger. He sat quietly and stared at the pieces of metal in his hand. Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson's ID tags…

In the halls of Carecorp Pharmaceutical Company in downtown San Antonio, clean-up crews were skedaddling around. Wearing full HAZMAT gear, the experts left the building free of any evidence showing that the infection started here. After the Raccoon City incident, the Rockfort Island situation, the Las Plagas and Kijuju outbreaks, the Umbrella Corporation was running on bankrupt. Operating under cover corporations and sister companies such as Tricell and Carecorp, the Umbrella scientists were still experimenting with their viruses. Except now, there was another outbreak. The media was controlled and a cover up story was released quickly the first time in Raccoon, but this time, the damage control was too late. People may not have known much about what happened, nothing more than a nuclear reactor imploded and the city was lost.

And now it was happening all over again. An assistant approached the head scientist and showed him the iPad in his hand.

"Sir, we have survivors."

The iPad showed a satellite image of two Humvees driving away from a horde of Lickers and zombies. The head scientist cursed. He turned around and walked to a quarantine tent outside of the building, the assistant following. There were four figures inside.

"It seems that there is a need for you after all. We have survivors."

The four were clad in black assault gear with the most sophisticated weaponry, equipment and HAZMAT gasmasks. All four had glowing red lenses and a patch on their arm. The patch was that of a red and white umbrella with the words 'Carecorp Cleaners' underneath.

The leader of the four stepped forward.

"_Orders Sir?"_

"Find the survivors and kill them."

"_It will be done Sir…"_

**Author's Note:** So, here is chapter 9. Hope that wasn't too bad for you guys! Another character bites the big one. I was planning on having a few scenes from this chapter appear a little later, but I had someone ask a few questions about the Carecorp Pharmaceutical Company I mentioned in the prologue. I wanted to show their ties to Umbrella Corp. (and thus the ties to the Resident Evil universe) and I thought, 'How do I show a little teaser of what's to come, and how this all ties back to the true Resident Evil?' And so, the Cleaners are introduced. They are basically based off of Hunk's team as well as the operatives in the upcoming new Resident Evil game. And there will be plenty more appearances to come, just not right now. So, come back for chapter 10, where there will be plenty of more references like the CQC reference from Metal Gear Solid!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

The whole episode: "Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)" Deftones


	11. Dedicated To the Fallen

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

**Chapter X**

No longer in the city, the two Humvees drove towards the hill country. Not a word was said. The death of Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson was still weighing heavily on the minds of all survivors. The man had made the ultimate sacrifice to protect the girls.

In the second vehicle, Jeff Kowalski was thinking about how he was tossed aside while trying to protect his daughter. _And because I was weak, another man lost his life_. He thought. The mood in both trucks was sullen.

Rachel Dempsey was sitting in the passenger seat behind Voodoo as he drove on the long and winding road. She was hurt over the loss of the older Marine. The lawyer wrapped her arms around the driver from behind and leaned her head against the back of the headrest. She felt her eyes burn with tears she refused to let run down her face.

During their last rest stop, Sandman had taken over the turret for Technical Sergeant Alexa Mitchell. He had left his helmet back at the motel where they first ran into the Lickers; however he did still have his sunglasses. The Oakley Half-Jackets were shielding his eyes from the sand that blew in his face. His hair was blowing in the wind and there wasn't a soul in sight. He made a fist and pounded gently on the roof of the Humvee. Voodoo heard the signal and pulled over. The second truck followed their lead.

The operators got out of the truck and the Marines did as well. The two Special Forces soldiers walked off the road, leaving the confused infantry members behind. Their gear was taken off and the two began making two dirt mounds. At this point, everyone had exited their vehicles and was just watching the two.

When the two mounds were done, Voodoo and Sandman placed a spent round on top. They nodded and went to work on three more mounds. Sergeant Mitchell had taken her gear off and slung her rifle. She approached the operators and started helping. Rachel and Julia went to help as well.

After the three additional graves were finished, Sandra walked up and placed a flower she had picked on each. The survivors gathered together and bowed their heads. Not a word was said, but everyone could feel the emotion in the air. These graves were to those they had lost.

_Claudia and Lily Bealls, Sandman's wife and daughter…_

_ Jill Kowalski, Jeff's wife and Sandra's mother…_

_ Major Ken "Vicious" Dodgson, the Delta Force operator who had been killed fighting the Executioner…_

_ Staff Sergeant Leroy Jackson, the Marine platoon sergeant who sacrificed himself protecting the girls…_

The survivors climbed back into the Humvees and drove on. Mitchell could still see the graves in the mirror._ How many more are we gonna have to make? How much longer until they make one for me._ She thought.

The sun was setting and the two trucks kept driving in the hill country; however they didn't know they were being followed by a jet black MH-60 Black Hawk. The Black Hawk was trailing a distance away, careful not to be spotted. On the side doors was a symbol, a symbol of a red and white umbrella with the words 'Carecorp Cleaners' underneath.

The Cleaners had found the survivors…

**Author's Note:** Nothing to say… I'm sorry that this one was a short one, like less than 1000 words or so. I'm sorry, just had a rough day concerning work so my mind's not really into it. I'll be back tomorrow with more quality work, guys! This chapter is dedicated to the SEALs and air crew who lost their lives today in Afghanistan. We miss you guys! USSOCOM FTW!

**List of songs for this chapter:**

No music was used on this chapter. Moment of silence.


	12. Rest My Chemistry

-For disclaimer, see profile.-

SEE AUTHOR'S NOTE FOR IMPORTANT MESSAGE

**Chapter XI**

The survivors stopped to get gas. There was an abandoned Shell gas station less than a mile from the city of San Angelo. The two Humvees were parked at adjacent pumps. Lieutenant Hicks was standing guard in between the vehicles while Private Martinez and Technical Sergeant Mitchell were moving their turrets around.

Voodoo and Sandman had dismounted the trucks. They ran into the convenience store and checked the computer. The screen was a touch screen and they typed in ninety dollars' worth of diesel for each of the Humvees. The cash register opened, expecting cash for the prepaid gasoline, but Sandman closed it, leaving it deprived.

The two operators ran back to the Humvees and began to fill them up. Martinez was still nervous. The Hellhounds had stopped chasing them, but every now and then, there would be a pack of Lickers that would suddenly ambush the trucks. The Humvees were filled up and the operators got back in. Hicks jumped into his driver's seat as well. The two vehicles took off.

They wanted to avoid urban areas but the survivors were running low on supplies. More importantly, they were running low on ammo. Thanks to Staff Sergeant Jackson's sacrifice, Hicks and Voodoo were stocked up, but Martinez only had 450 rounds left for his SAW, while Sandman had shot his SAW empty.

San Angelo was a ghost town. There were wrecked cars everywhere. Bloodstains littered the ground and half-eaten bodies lay on the pavement. The Humvees moved slowly through the city, desperate seeking some resource they could tap.

Red lenses followed every move those vehicles made. The scope that was mounted on the top of the M110 was sighted on the trailing truck.

_"Not yet. You'll give our position away."_ A muffled voice came from behind. Four figures dressed in black rose from the hill they were perched on. They dusted themselves off and followed the Humvees on foot. The Cleaners were really close…

The sporting goods store was surprisingly crowded. Not with people mind you, crowded with corpses. Apparently a lot of people thought it would be a wise decision to raid the store and take the weapons. Not that many people made it out. There were quite a few infected on the ground with a bullet to the head.

The Humvees pulled up to the front door. Sandman and Martinez volunteered the stay behind on the turrets and Hicks stood in by the front door. Voodoo and Mitchell entered the store and saw that the inside wasn't that much different from the outside. Jeff and Rachel grabbed two shopping carts and the girls grabbed a hand basket each.

It was eerily quiet, a little too quiet. Sandra Kowalski got nervous and started humming a song to herself. The two M4's swept across the aisle while the soldiers moved forward. They led the group straight to the back of the store, where the weapons were.

There was still an assortment of weapons left. Voodoo hopped over the counter and started sifting through boxes, looking for ammunition. Alexa Mitchell took the girls and their baskets and went looking for supplies. Jeff and Rachel stayed behind with the operator. Voodoo set his weapon on the counter and let his head drop. He sighed in disapproval. _Of course they wouldn't have 5.56 mm here, that's military grade ammo. Fuck._ Voodoo turned back to the weapon rack. _Well, I'm already here. Might as well make the best of this. What do we have here?_

There were quite a few shotguns left. Voodoo reached for a Remington 870 and felt its weight. Jeff was already filling his cart with empty pistol magazines the operators could use for their handguns. Rachel stocked up on every type of handgun ammo; 9mm, .45 cal., everything.

Mitchell and the girls came back, baskets full of batteries, flashlights and other supplies. The girls also found walkie-talkies. Jeff looked at the radios and at Voodoo. He smiled and reached for some headsets you could connect to the radios and threw them in the basket. Voodoo slung his M4/M203 and grabbed a box of shells. He loaded the shotgun in his hands and slung that as well. He grabbed another shotgun. "For Sandman," He added with a smirk.

The operator was standing in the turret, his eyes hiding behind his Oakley shades. He looked for threats but could see nothing. In the turret next to him, Marine Private Martinez was getting nervous.

"We need to get out of here man. We should get out of the open. This is not good man! They're gonna get us! Just like they got the Sarge." He kept complaining. Sandman tuned him out. He had more important things to do than listen to some Private complain. Things like scan for enemies. Much like the ones approaching.

There were infected people walking across the parking lot. They still had to cross the entire lot which gave the survivors some time. It also gave Sandman the perfect vantage point. He pulled the bolt back on the .50 caliber machine gun on the turret and took aim. The Private was still talking and hadn't noticed any movement.

Sandman opened fire, letting a few bursts go. Several of the unlucky infected got hit and their bodies exploded. The .50 caliber bullets sailed through the air and did not stop for anything. Martinez got scared the second Sandman started shooting. He finally saw the zombies closing in and opened fire as well. Hicks used the hood of the Humvee as cover and fired his M16. He wasn't doing as much damage as the gunners in the turrets but he was trying. Realizing he wasn't adding much to the firefight, the Lieutenant ran into the store and found the others.

"They found us. They're crossing the parking lot right now."

Voodoo left the others and ran outside. He tossed a shotgun up at Sandman and crouched next to the Humvee. The operator looked through his ACOG sight and took advantage of the 4x zoom it provided. Voodoo fired headshot after headshot.

The parking lot was starting to get full with waves of infected. Under the cover of gunfire, Hicks and Mitchell led the survivors out. They loaded the supplies onto the Humvees.

Martinez's voice was so full of fear it sounded over the gunfire.

"LICKERS!"

The .50 cal. machine guns lit up the parking lot. A lot of Lickers were shred to pieces. And then the worst sound came.

Silence.

The two weapons ran out of ammo and there was no extra ammo for the .50 calibers. The big machine guns were silent. Sandman reacted immediately, switching his empty weapon for his handgun. He aimed down his tritium sights and fired. Martinez pulled out his SAW and resumed firing. Voodoo ran dry as well, but instead of reloading, he switched to his newly acquired shotgun. He ran out from the trucks to get a little closer and started hitting the common infected with 12 gauge shells.

The civilians were done loading. They hopped inside the safety of the vehicles, followed by Hicks and Mitchell. The second truck was ready to go and Voodoo got in the driver's seat. The trucks took off, chased by the remaining Lickers. Martinez tried to shoot his SAW but the .50 caliber machine gun was in the way and the trucks were moving pretty hectic, so he just held on as the survivors made their escape. The ride out of the parking lot was bouncing and Martinez struggled to stay still.

The Lickers couldn't keep up and there were no Hellhounds so the group was in the clear. They drove away from the shopping center and headed towards the highway.

Martinez never knew there was a pair of eyes watching him. He never knew one eye closed. He never heard the trigger being pulled.

Martinez's head snapped back. He crumpled in his seat and slid out of the turret and into the truck. A gunshot sounded.

Jeff Kowalski, sitting in the passenger seat, heard some commotion behind him and his daughter started screaming. He turned around and saw the dead Marine curled up in the Humvee. He reached for his radio and started yelling that Martinez was hit.

Rachel Dempsey was holding the radio in her hand. She heard Jeff yelling through it and looked at Voodoo, who was driving. They just lost another survivor.

Martinez was dead before anyone heard the shot…

**Author's Note:** So, here is chapter 11. Sorry about missing some time, work was hectic, but anyway, I'm back! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I decided to write the Cleaners in a little sooner than I wanted, but to compromise, I only gave some sneak peeks of the assassin team. Until the end that is… Please be back for chapter 12 and review!

**Alright, well on a serious note. Work is getting a little intense and I don't know if I'm going to be able to keep updating daily. I might have to make it every other day, just for the fans. But seriously, I will try everything I can to be here for you guys while I'm doing my business at work. You loyal fans are the reason I keep going. And I won't let you down!**

**List of songs for this chapter:**

The Fight: "Brave" Dry Cell

The Last Breath: "Rest My Chemistry" Interpol


	13. AUTHOR'S NOTE AND UPDATE

UPDATE!

Hey guys, it's Andrew. Sorry I haven't updated lately. I've been busy and it sucks, so SORRY! I am currently working on another chapter so it is on the way, I promise!


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